


A Dragon in the Inquisition

by Matman0187



Series: Dragonborn Duronius [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 133,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matman0187/pseuds/Matman0187
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been 5 years since the mishap with the Elder Scroll sent the Dragonborn to this new world. 5 long years since he'd seen his homeland of Tamriel. The magic of the scroll transported him to a new world, in some ways similar to his home, but in others, so very different. This new realm of Thedas was full new mysteries and dangers, and a long history of conflict. Every desperate attempt to return home ended in failure, and the Dragonborn finally resigned himself to his fate of being stuck here forever. But then Kirkwall's Chantry was destroyed, the Circles of Magi fell apart, and the Mage Rebellion began. </p><p>As the war was quickly going nowhere for either side, and the bodies began to pile up, the Divine called together a conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the most holy of places for the religion of the Maker. For some reason he did not understand, the Dragonborn decided to attend this conclave, believing the reason behind his presence in Thedas was soon to be revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Conclave

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I've decided to rewrite the flashback chapters in the story to make something more cohesive, as well as to make changes to Marcus' relationship with Serana. I've kinda just been making up the story as I go along, and sometimes an idea pops into my head that just feels better than what I've already typed and posted.  
> Chapters 14, 22, and 30 will be rewritten.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has told Dragonborn Marcus to make his way to Haven. There at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, a conclave has been called where changes will be made that may shake Thedas to its roots. Nobody could have predicted how true that would be.

The small settlement of Haven was bristling with activity. It seemed like half of Ferelden was here, pilgrims, making their way to pray at the Temple, mages and templars there to attend the conclave, (though they avoided each other like they had the Blight) and various other people there to bare witness to what everybody hope would finally be the end to this awful war. It was here that Marcus, hero of Skyrim, slayer of Alduin the World Eater, destroyer of Harkon, and bane of Miraak, found himself. Even in his human form, the Beast Blood gave him heightened senses. 

Marcus felt a twinge of pain as the cold mountain air reminded him of home. The home he hadn't seen in half a decade. He wondered if the second war with the Aldmeri Dominion had begun, and the thought terrified him. The Empire was weak and the pointless war against the Stormcloaks had cost the lives of many men who were desperately needed in the fight against the damned Thalmor. Despite his worry, he forced his thoughts of home to the back of his mind. In his five years in Thedas, he hadn't been able to discover how to return home and he was dangerously close to drowning himself in misery.

Marcus had done everything he could to keep who he was and where he was from a secret from the people of Thedas. He saw the way they treated mages, and anything they saw as different scared them. He didn't want to think of how they would react to a man with immense supernatural power falling through a portal from another world, though he was felt that they would probably try to kill him. He had concocted a cover story of being the sole survivor of a shipwreck that had caused him to lose all memory of his life from before except for his name. He avoided using the Thu'um in the presence of others and nobody had pried further into his backstory. To the people of Thedas, he was just another human among thousands, though a much better fighter than most.

He sat outside of the tent he shared with a number of pilgrims just outside of the wooden palisade walls of Haven itself sharpening his dragonbone sword. His suit of Ebony armor and the Dragon Priest mask Otar sat neatly beside him, completely spotless. The Imperial had always been one for order, and his service in the Legion had only intensified this habit. The Chantry sisters had been unbelievably kind, caring for the needs of Templars, mages, and pilgrims alike as they made their way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes to bear witness to the conclave that everybody hoped would finally put an end to this devastating war.

He had come as an escort to a small group of minor nobles from Orlais who wanted to observe the Conclave for themselves, (and try to figure out how to turn the outcome to their own favor) and now that they were safely at the Temple, they had paid him his due and released him from their service. If there was one thing he liked about these Orlaisians, it was that they certainly paid well. The voyage from Lydes had been quiet for the most part except for a small group of bandits hoping to make easy prey of people traveling to the Temple. The fools chose the wrong caravan to attack and wouldn't be murdering and robbing anybody ever again.

A fearsome looking woman with a scarred face and short black hair walked past with a large, well armored, light haired man and a dwarf with the strangest crossbow he'd ever seen. He could hear hushed words spoken between the them, obvious that they didn't want to be heard by anybody nearby. 

He watched them as they passed through the gate into Haven. The sun was low in the sky and he was getting hungry. With most of the travelers already at the Temple, he figured that the local tavern wouldn't be too busy and he'd treat himself to a hot meal and a few drinks with some of the money he'd earned from the Orlaisians. He got up, stretched his arms and legs and entered his tent to grab a coin purse, then made his way into the town.

A massive flash of sickly green light lit up the darkening horizon like like the breath of some enormous dragon, followed a heartbeat later by a shockwave that hit Marcus with the power of a hurricane, and the loudest blast he had ever heard, it was as though a thunderclap went off next to his head. He shouted in agony as the sound reverberated off of his eardrums, nearly causing them to burst. He could hear nothing but the torturous ringing. He looked at his surroundings, his vision blurred slightly by the pain in his head. People were pouring into the open from their homes, tents and the tavern. Many of them clutched their heads as he did as they stumbled into the streets. The Chantry doors burst open and the three individuals he'd seen walk past him just a few minutes before emerged.

The ringing Marcus' ears began to die down. 'that blast came from the Temple,' he thought to himself. He could see the blonde soldier shouting orders. A number of Ferelden soldiers, and a few Templars started to gather in the courtyard in front of the Chantry. Marcus knew they were going to investigate the explosion and he had to be a part of it. It wasn't like him to sit idly by with a crisis on hand. Despite the splitting headache, and continuing ringing in his ears, he rushed back to his tent and grabbed his freshly sharpened sword. He had no time to don his armor, so the leather jerkin and trousers he wore underneath would have to do for the time being.

He made his way to the Chantry courtyard where two armed Ferelden soldiers stopped him. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" one of them demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"My name is Marcus, I'm here to help however I can." the Dragonborn replied.

"You know how to use that sword?" the other soldier asked.

"Better than most I suppose."

They huffed at that. "Alright... Marcus, if you think you can be useful, go talk to Commander Cullen." the first one said, pointing at the blonde man. Marcus nodded and the guards let him past. He jogged over to the commander and the man looked up.

"Commander Cullen? My name is Marcus, I'm here to offer my sword."

"Good, my troops are scattered across the valley and I don't know how many were killed in that explosion. We need to get down there and look for any survivors." Cullen motioned towards his two companions. "Marcus, this is Seeker Pentaghast. She will be staying here to maintain order."

The dwarf with the crossbow stepped forward extending his hand, which Marcus took in his own. "The name's Varric Tethras, perhaps you've read some of my..."

The commander silenced him with a stare "Now's not the time Varric" Cullen and turned to his men. "Time is wasting, let's move out!"

Before they could take even two steps one of the men stopped and stared at the sky, shock and disbelief planted on the features of his face. "Maker's breath! What is that thing?" Everybody looked to where he pointed. The sky was torn, a massive wound, the same sickly green as the explosion, spread for miles above where the Temple used to be, a trail of some energy stretched from the tear towards the ground. Fire fell from the breach like meteors, peppering the land below.

"I don't know, but it can't be good." Cullen exclaimed. "Go! Double time!"

The small company of men quickly moved out of town and across the bridge towards the Temple. What they found was a total ruin. Much of the valley was aflame and everything was blasted apart. There was barely a stone laying atop another. Charred corpses littered the ground and in the center of it all was a strange green portal connected to the massive tear in the sky.

"What in Oblivion happened here?" Marcus muttered to himself under his breath, observing the total destruction that lay at his feet. "Commander, what is that thing?" Marcus asked pointing to the green portal.

"It looks like some sort of tear in the Veil, I wish I knew more." he gestured towards his men. "Spread out, look for any survivors!" Commander Cullen ordered. "Not that we're going to find any." Marcus heard him sigh quietly.

The Dragonborn slowly approached the rift, carefully stepping around the charred remains of those unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. Against his better judgment, he reached up to touch the strange green rift when it suddenly burst to life, he jumped backwards, stumbling and almost falling as it opened up, someone fell through it and he leapt forward and caught them just before they hit the ground. Through the rift, he saw a glowing figure, vaguely human, but it slammed shut before he could see what it was.

"Commander Cullen!" He shouted, "A survivor!" He looked down at the person he held in his arms. A woman in her mid twenties, fair of skin with light brown hair and full pink lips. She stared back at him, fear, and confusion filling her light blue eyes. Her breath came quickly and heavily as she tried to say something but her lips couldn't form the words. "It's alright, you're safe now" he told her, though his voice betrayed his own uncertainty.

Cullen and a few other men had arrived and stared at the two on the ground. A green light flared brilliantly from her hand and she cried out in agony. Her body fell limp and her eyes shut as she fell into unconsciousness. "Did you get her name? Where she came from?" the Commander inquired.

"No..." Marcus replied "She... she just fell out of the rift. I thought I saw someone on the other side before it closed."

"She fell out of the rift!?" one of the soldiers asked,

"How could she have survived?" Another asked. "She has to be responsible for this."

"I don't know who's responsible for this, but right now she is our only lead." Cullen stated, silencing his men. "We need to get her back to Haven so Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Leliana can..."

"Commander! Look, the breach!" a soldier shouted. Everybody's eyes turned skyward as another swarm of green fireballs fell from the wound in the Veil. The green meteors blasted the ruined courtyard as men bolted for any cover they could find.

"Andraste save me!" One man screamed as one of the balls of fire struck a pillar mere yards from him. From the craters and flaming remnants of the meteor strikes rose some sort of horrific, humanoid creatures Marcus had never seen before, but Cullen had.

"Demons"


	2. The Breach in the Sky

It was like Helgen all over again. The smell of charred flesh and death filled the air. The screams of wounded and dying men reverberated in his head. Before they could even react, the demons had massacred half of their number and blocked their way of escape. The survivors had formed a semicircle between the oncoming demons and the survivor. Cullen ordered them to protect her at all costs. But those fortunate enough to still be alive were on the verge of breaking. Commander Cullen was quickly losing control of his men as panic started to dictate their actions rather than order and discipline. Marcus could feel his own fear building up inside of him. Good. He could use his fear as long as he controlled his fear, and didn't allow it to control him, turn it into a weapon against his enemies. Fear was the most primal of emotions, the driving force of all life, the sense of self-preservation. He channeled his fear through his body, controlling it with discipline and experience.

Marcus fought with a contained, clear headed urgency. Constantly aware of changes in the field of battle, which demon posed the most immediate threat, how could he use the terrain to his advantage, what were his avenues of escape if retreat became his only choice? He had to be doubly careful in this fight, his accustomed fighting style was to hide behind a shield and layers of heavy armor, but he hadn't had time to don his armor, and in their haste to reach the temple, he'd forgotten Spellbreaker in his tent. (He'd make sure to kick himself in the ass later for that. If he managed to survive, that is.)

Marcus' father was a veteran of the Great War against the Aldmeri Dominion, and Marcus had always wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and become a soldier in the Legion. His family had been wealthy, so they'd been able to afford him a fine suit of heavy armor at a young age and he had trained with the finest swordsmanship instructors in Cyrodiil. He'd trained some using light armor, but had little real combat experience without heavy armor and a thick shield. If there was any time he hoped the lessons of his instructors stuck with him it was without a doubt now. His life and the lives of others counted on it.

"Stay in formation!" He heard Cullen shout over the scrape of claws on steel, the shouts of men and the horrible screeching sound the demons made. Marcus parried a hard vertical swipe a shade made at him with a clawed hand. Ducking a second blow, he drove his sword up through the creature's abdomen. A cry of agony and feral rage burst from the demon before being silenced with a decapitation. Marcus knew that it was only a matter of time before the sheer number of demons overwhelmed them. The Ferelden soldiers were nearing their breaking point, and even Cullen's battle-hardened Templars looked as though they were beginning to waver. Even though he barely knew these men, Marcus felt obliged to do what he could to defend them, he'd never be able to live with himself if he allowed them to die when he could have saved them. It had happened too many times before and he wouldn't let it happen again. His secret no longer mattered if people had to die for it.

__________________________________________________

The screech of claws on steel tormented through Cullen's ears as he parried blow after savage blow from the enraged demon. Even with his Templar training and years of experience, this fight was taking his toll on him, as with all of the men under his command, the men who had entrusted him with their lives. He had to get them out of there somehow, break through the seemingly endless horde of demons that now barred their path out of the ruined temple. He had to get the stranger from the rift back to Haven. Everything counted on him and he could not afford to fail. Not this time. A brutal strike from the demon broke his balance. He couldn't keep his footing and stumbled backwards, tripping over the charred remains of some unfortunate bastard whose life had been ended when the Temple was obliterated. From where Cullen lay, he knew that he wouldn't be far behind the dead man.

"MUL QA DIIV"

The demon loomed over him ready to end Cullen Rutherford's life. He closed his eyes, whispering a final prayer to the Maker, but his end never came. A long sword cut through the abomination downwards from its left shoulder and straight through its body in a diagonal motion, cutting the shade in half as easily as he might have cut through cloth. The shade disintegrated into nothing like all demons did when they were killed, and Cullen beheld his savior. The new volunteer, Marcus, he remembered was his name, stood before him, basked in a golden ethereal glow vaguely resembling the horns and spines born by some of the dragons found across Thedas.

"I... how... wha..." Cullen stuttered his confusion and shock leaving him incapable of words.

"Thank me later." Marcus told him, offering him a hand "Once we're back in Haven."

"Behind y..." Cullen started to shout a warning, but Marcus somehow knew what was coming. He casually sidestepped the bolt of magical energy the ghost-like wraith had flung at him. the bolt flew past harmlessly and impacted the far wall of the ruins with a puff of green energy. As Marcus turned his full attention towards the demon, Cullen heard a sharp intake of breath

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" An enormous gout of flame erupted from Marcus' mouth and engulfed the wraith along with another three shades.

"What... what are you?" a Templar demanded, taking two steps back from him.

"Do you want me to sit down so I you a story or do you want to stay alive?" Marcus retorted, when he got no reply he hmphed "That's what I thought, now come on, we have demons to kill. SU GRAH DUN!" Marcus took the lead, hacking, slashing, or shouting down any demon who showed its hideous face with extreme prejudice. This reprieve was exactly what the other men needed to regroup.

Cullen was filled with a renewed energy, a sense of hope that they'd actually manage to make it out of here alive. Nobody knew who this Marcus was, and right now none of them cared who he was. He was what was keeping them alive, what was giving them hope. They cut down demon after demon with a renewed ferocity, protecting the unconscious woman from the Fade Rift with everything they had, and soon enough, the horde of demons pouring through the rift began to thin.

"Raagh!" Cullen roared as plunged his blade through a shade's chest. The demon convulsed violently and melted into the ground before being forcibly dragged back into the Fade like every other they had killed. He immediately looked up, head on a swivel, looking for his next target, but none remained. They had actually done it. Bruised, battered, beaten, and practically coated in demon blood, against all odds, they'd fought the demons and had beaten them. The fade rift closed and no more shades or wraiths emerged, though it remained, hovering above the ground.

"Andraste's mercy, I can't fucking believe we're still alive!" a Ferelden soldier sighed in relief, panting heavily with sweat trickling down his face.

"I don't know who you are or how you did that Marcus," Cullen said, placing his hand on the Dragonborn's shoulder as the ethereal glow of his Dragon aspect finally wore off "but you have all of our gratitude." Marcus wasn't so sure about that, judging by the looks he was getting from the survivors, he was something they didn't know, didn't understand, his power was almost as foreign to them as the demons they'd just killed and they feared him for it.

"Don't be too grateful." Marcus laughed breathlessly, wiping the sweat off of his face with the back of his hand "I had to save my own ass as well."

Cullen chuckled, taking his hand off of Marcus' shoulder. "Let's fall back to Haven, bring the survivor from the fade and find what you can to help carry the wounded." Cullen paused, shutting his eyes tight in a pained grimace "Burn the dead..."

"Commander, surely you can't be serious! They haven't had the proper funeral rites, they should be returned to their families!" a surviving Templar exclaimed, mouth agape in shock.

"I am serious Lysette, and don't call me Shirley." Cullen replied, rubbing his eyes, the former Templar sighed exhausted, hoping to the Maker that this was all just some terrible dream, and that he'd wake up and everything would be right in the world. "Believe me, it pains me immensely to do this, and if I had any other choice, I would make it. There are too few of us to carry them and the wounded all the way back to Haven. The living must take priority over the dead."

Lysette shook her head, and whispered a prayer for the dead before moving off to tend to a wounded comrade, another Templar by the name of Cailan who had suffered from numerous blasts of wraith magic, and a severe abdominal wound given to him by an angry shade. Marcus was astonished that the man was still alive, let along conscious, but he had heard stories of the resilience of Templars. Another man, one of the Ferelden soldiers, Irving, his name was, knelt over the body of his brother, weeping quietly. Two more unwounded survivors, Ferelden soldiers by the names of Jered and Loren, helped a third wounded man, Rowan, to his feet. The claws of a shade had bitten right through the leather coverings on his left arm he was bleeding severely even through the makeshift bandages wrapped around the torn flesh. Of the original eighteen men who had set forth from haven, only eight still lived, and of those seven, two were badly wounded, none of them had come out of this fight unscathed.

Guilt flooded into Marcus' mind, these men shouldn't have died. If he had acted sooner they might have survived this, might have lived to return to their parents, their wives, their children, some looked barely older than sixteen. These men may have gone on to live long and happy lives, they might have gone on to accomplish wonders. But now they would never get a chance to fulfill their lives, and it was all Marcus' fault. He could have saved them, should have saved them, but he was weak, afraid of rejection and condemnation for what he was. These were another ten people he'd add to the list of people he'd failed. He'd never even had the chance to learn their names.

They managed to scrounge together enough material to make stretchers for the two wounded, and the strange woman. They then carefully stacked the bodies of the dead as respectfully as they could. Lysette, and Jered recited a verse from the Chant of Light as Cullen set them ablaze. They didn't wait around for any longer, wary of the rift reopening and deposing another wave of demons. Two men each grabbed a stretcher and they made the long march back to Haven through the frozen valley. Marcus and the Cullen carried the woman from the Fade, Lysette, and Irving carried Cailan, with Jared and Loren carrying Rowan. They stopped so Loren could pick some elfroot miraculously growing out of the frozen ground and crushed the leaves into a juice which he spread over their wounds. The elfroot helped dull the pain and aided in the healing process, but they would need a real healer if they were to have any hopes of recovering.

Day had become night hours ago. Snow fell from the clouded sky in torrents and the freezing wind of the Frostback Mountains bit at their exposed skin. Only the ugly pale green light of the Breach in the sky lit their way. Marcus was grateful that he'd at least worn his gloves, but his face wasn't faring well. Not all of the others were as suited to the cold as he was, and he could feel their suffering. With his beast blood, he could smell their body temperature drop, hear their teeth chattering and the violent shivers raking their bodies. They needed to stop, find some place to get warm, but stopping could spell death for the wounded, who needed a healer immediately. Haven was still a long ways away, too long. But he wasn't going to any of them die.

"At this rate we aren't going to make it!" Marcus shouted over the howl of the wind. "I can do something about this, put down your stretchers and everybody cover your ears!" There was a pause, everybody looked at him warily.

"Just do it! We're wasting time here!" Cullen shouted. They all listened to their commander and set down the stretchers.

"Alright, now cover your damned ears, unless you want to go deaf!" now they listened to him. Marcus inhaled deeply and gazed up at the storm clouds looming above. "LOK VAH KOOR" Almost immediately, the wind ceased and the clouds dissipated into nothing, revealing a clear night sky filled with a myriad of stars and wondrous constellations.

"You are just full of surprises Marcus." Cullen said from the far end of the stretcher. "Come on, it's still a long march to Haven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Index  
> Mul Qa Diiv- Dragon Aspect  
> Yol Toor Shul - Fire Breath (obviously)  
> Su Grah Dun - Elemental Fury  
> Lok Vah Koor - Clear Skies


	3. Return to Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really any action, but dialogue heavy. The sort of calm before the storm.

"Open the gates! We've got wounded here!" Cullen shouted as the beaten, bloodied, and absolutely exhausted survivors finally stumbled up to the gates of Haven, the sun beginning to peak out from above the Frostbacks. They passed Marcus' tent, his armor and shield still neatly stacked where he had left them, though few of the pilgrims remained. They must have fled sometime in the night while they were away. The gates to the fortified settlement opened from the inside and they were ushered in by several guards. The small group had barely made it through the gates and placed the stretchers on the ground before collapsing. A human healer appeared with his tools and immediately started tending to the wounded.

Seeker Pentaghast along with a hooded woman in a robe of chain mail, along with a male Chantry cleric, a Chancellor judging by his robes, rushed down the steps from the Chantry to meet them. Marcus noticed a bald elven mage who remained standing atop the steps. "By the Maker Cullen! What in Andraste's name happened to you all, where are the rest of you?? " the hooded woman inquired, kneeling at his side.

"The temple was... completely destroyed. Everybody there... is dead. Most of my men are dead... killed by demons... from the... Breach." Cullen recited pausing for breaths. He glanced at the others sprawled about the courtyard. "We're all that's left."

"What of Divine Justinia?" the Chancellor implored "

"There was no sign of her..." Cullen said, starting to catch his breath. "It's more than likely that she died in the blast. I am truly sorry Cassandra, Leliana, I know you were close to her."

Cassandra shut her eyes tightly, and bowed her head "I feared as much." the hooded woman, Leliana said somberly. "Who is this?" she asked, gesturing to the young woman with the marked hand.

"Don't know who she is." he looked around and leaned in close to the women, keeping his voice low so any bystanders could not hear. "She fell out of the Fade through the breach in the sky."

"But... but that's impossible... nobody has been physically in the Fade since the Magisters who started the Blight!"

Marcus had been listening from his seat on the bottom step leading up the the Chantry, with a groan he stood up on his aching legs and walked over. "It's true. I saw her come through the rift myself."

The Seeker and Sister Leliana stared at him, mouths agape. Cassandra was the one who managed to regain her composure first."This is unprecedented. Did she say anything to you? Does she know what happened at the Temple?"

"No. But she's connected to the Breach somehow. She has a mark on her hand and it reacted when the Breach expanded, badly." Marcus said, stating what he had seen. "It was hurting her somehow, and she passed out before she could say anything."

"I haven't seen you around Haven before, and you don't belong to the Chantry, Templars, or Mages from the look of it. What's your name?" Sister Leliana demanded from him.

"Marcus. I was hired as an bodyguard by some Orlesian nobles who wanted to observe the Conclave. It's likely that they're all dead now." he explained.

"If you aren't a soldier, why did you go with Cullen to investigate the Temple?"

"Seemed like the right thing to do, ma'am." He told her, looking directly into her deep blue eyes.

"It was Marcus who saved our lives at the Temple" Cullen spoke up "He..." he was cut off by a rather loud Loren, enthusiastically telling the whole story to one of his fellow guardsmen

"And then this guy who came with us, never seen 'im before, just shouted some funny words, cut a fuckin' demon clean in two and then he breathed fire on s'more of 'em! Andraste's tits, I've never seen anythin like it in my life." the man was waving his hands in a mock sword fight for emphasis.

Cullen glared at him, and returned his gaze to the women, "As I was saying... we wouldn't have survived the demons, or that blizzard without him."

"It was YOU that stopped that blizzard?" Cassandra asked disbelievingly. "You aren't even a mage."

Marcus sighed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "It's... complicated, and right now, I'd prefer to collapse onto my bed and sleep for a few days rather than explain something you wouldn't understand."

"And I'd prefer that you tell us right now." Cassandra demanded with a scowl. She stood and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Marcus glanced indifferently at the sword and snorted. "Seeker Pentaghast, I'm on your side, believe me, you'd know if I wasn't. I got the commander and his men out of the temple and I brought you a lead for your investigation. If the time comes when I feel I can trust you with the truth of who I am, I'll tell you. Plus asking nicely doesn't hurt either." he turned back towards the gate and started walking back to his tent.

"Get back here!" the Seeker ordered, but she was simply ignored.

"Cassandra, just leave him be." Cullen told her, but her temper got the better of her and she drew her sword.

The sound of the blade being unsheathed got his attention. He turned back around. "I don't have the energy for this shit right now. ZUN HAAL VIIK!" An invisible force ripped Cassandra's blade from her hands and sent it flying 20 feet across the courtyard, sticking into the dirt near a very startled soldier. The Seeker did a double take from him to her sword and back to him flabbergasted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

The Seeker almost chased him down and tackled him, but stopped when Cullen grabbed her by the arm. "It's obvious you don't trust him, and I understand it, but he saved my life Cassandra, and I've seen him fight. Trying to force him to explain something he obviously doesn't want to won't end well. He's as much of a mystery to me as he is to you, but we need him to trust us."

"I could have my agents look into him." Leliana stated, walking up behind them. "I don't know how much they'll find though." Her gaze drifted down to the unconscious woman from the Fade with the marked hand. "Also, we have her to worry about. Have your men bring her to the Chantry, there are cells in the basement where we can keep her secure."

* * *

Cullen motioned for two men to grab the stranger's stretcher and carry it up the steps from the courtyard. Cullen, and Leliana and Chancellor Roderick followed closely behind while Cassandra retrieved her sword. At the doors to the Chantry they were joined by the bald elven mage.

"Cullen, this is Solas." Leliana introduced. "He arrived shortly after you left for the Temple, and I believe he could be a great help to us."

"A pleasure," Solas said with a nod.

"I'm surprised to find an elven apostate here, what with all the Templars and Chantry forces." Cullen said with, not even trying to hide his suspicion.

"A Breach in the Fade of this scale is a concern to everybody, elven apostates included." He turned his attention to Leliana and Cassandra. "With your permission, I'd like to study this woman and her mark. I believe it would give me insight into what may have created the Breach and how the mark is connected to it."

"Do what you can." Cassandra told him. Cullen hard stare didn't do much to hide his dislike of the Seeker's decision, but he kept his thoughts silent. They followed the stretcher through the Chantry doors and down a flight of steps into the building's undercroft. Two Chantry sisters went from brazier to brazier with a torch, lighting the dark, dank room. At the far end sat several jail cells lining the walls, and a pair of chains to bind a prisoner in the center of the floor. The soldiers set the stretcher down. "Chain her there." Cassandra told them, pointing to the spot in the middle of the room.

Cullen raised his voice in protest. "Is that truly necessary?"

"We have no idea who she is. For all we do know, she might be the cause of this." Cassandra told him curtly as the men finished binding the marked woman to the floor. "Until shown to be otherwise, she must be treated as a threat."

"Shall I get to work then?" Solas inquired

"Yes, thank you again, Solas." Leliana said, motioning for the others that it was time for them to leave. "Report to me immediately if you find anything."

"Of course." he said, already working the mark over with his magic as Cullen, Cassandra, and Leliana left the room.

They climbed the steps back into the main hall of the building where Chancellor Roderick was waiting for them, and then walked to the far end of the building where a meeting room had been set up. Cassandra held the door open for the other two and shut it when they were all inside. "Now." She started. "Are we going to discuss our other guest?"

* * *

In spite of his exhaustion Marcus couldn't sleep. He lay in his cot staring up at the roof of his tent. He hadn't been able to sleep well since the Companions had given him the blood of the beast. It had only gotten worse after she died in his arms. Just another death he blamed himself for. They told him there was nothing he could have done, that things just happen and you can't save everyone. Perhaps they were right, but he still couldn't help but feel like it was his fault. She had put her trust in him, and they were supposed to have each others backs, but now she was dead and he wasn't.

He swung his legs around the side of his cot and stood up, stretching as he looked around the empty tent that was large enough to house six. Everyone else was gone, fled from Haven after the Temple exploded. Reaching into his shirt, he took his key he hung around his neck and unlocked the trunk he kept beside his bed. Inside he found several changes of clothes, folded neatly and stacked to one side. Next to the clothes lay a large, half-blank book, a gift from his sister, when he decided to travel Tamriel after their parents died, leaving her to take care of their family's estates. He recorded anything that happened that he thought was important or noteworthy. Next to the book lay a portrait of his family, his mother, father, younger sister, and himself. He hadn't seen or heard from his sister in years, but they had kept in contact with each other through letters, though obviously not since he was brought to Thedas. Last he had heard from her, she was married to a kind young noble from Anvil with two children and a third on the way, still living on their family's ancestral land outside of Chorrol.

Marcus picked up the book and started skimming through the pages, there were a few brief excerpts from his visits to Hammerfell and High Rock. He'd spent several weeks with a group of Alik'r warriors traveling across the great desert that was their namesake, and learned a great deal of useful survival techniques for living in harsh conditions. After he had passed through the desert, he left Hammerfell from the city of Sentinel and traveled to Daggerfall where he stayed with a Breton noble family, an old war friend of his father's. It was a very interesting country and he enjoyed his time in High Rock immensely. He'd only left after the noble had tried to arrange a marriage between Marcus and his rather unsavory daughter, quietly slipping away in the night to avoid embarrassing the poor man.

After leaving Daggerfall, he traveled across High Rock and crossed the border into Skyrim... where he was captured by the Imperial Legion along with a number of Stormcloak rebels. All of his personal effects, including the family portrait and his journal were confiscated and he was carted off to Helgen to face execution. He was lucky that all of his things were sent to Solitude as war contraband, rather than to Helgen with the prisoners. After joining the Legion, Marcus got General Tullius to return all of his belongings to him along with an apology for almost removing Marcus' head from his shoulders.

He spent a good amount of time reading through his records of his adventures in Skyrim. Killing his first dragon and learning who he was. Joining the Companions, and becoming a werewolf. Meeting the Greybeards and advancing his knowledge of the Thu'um. Delphine and Esbern. Dragonrend and the battle with Alduin atop the Throat of the World. Trapping Odhaviing, traveling to Sovngarde and finally slaying Alduin in the final titanic battle before Shor's Hall of Valor.

Marcus flipped the book closed and placed on his bed, turning his attention back to the chest. Underneath the clothes and book, he kept Auriel's Bow and the Elder Scroll that had sent him to Thedas. He took the book off of his cot and placed it back into its spot and gave the picture of his family one last mournful look before putting it back inside too and locking the chest again. He gazed the armor rack that lay at the side of his cot opposite to the chest. The dragon priest mask "Otar" he had taken from the corpse of the dragon priest of the same name he had slain. The mask gave him significant protection against elemental magics and topped of the set of ebony armor honed to perfection and heavily enchanted against magic. The Dwemer shield Spellbreaker, with a powerful warding enchantment, and an enhanced Dwarven crossbow leaned against the suit of armor.

He heard could hear the footsteps coming from a ways away, by the sounds of it, only one person. He pushed open the flap of his tent to see the dwarf, Varric, approaching him from the gate of Haven.

"Hey, Marcus is it?" Marcus nodded, "I heard about what you did at the Temple..."

"And you wanted to come gawk at the freak?" Marcus asked, harshly

"Actually I was planning on buying you a drink at the tavern..." he replied, taken aback somewhat.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. The Seeker didn't really give me the warmest welcome. I'm surprised you aren't afraid of me."

"Afraid of you? Nah, I've seen a lot of crazy shit in my lifetime, but you seem like a decent person and it seems you've got that... power or whatever it is under control. Also, don't take the Seeker's words too personally, she's like that with everybody. Shit, she dragged me all the way here from Kirkwall for interrogation."

"I came here with some Orlesians who hired me as a bodyguard." he paused "I wonder which of us she likes less. And how can you be so sure I have it under control? Maybe I sneeze the wrong way and blow up the tavern."

"Really?" Varric asked intrigued. "I'd like to hear all about this... this what do you call it?"

"I'm joking. I'll only blow up the tavern if I want to." he laughed, which felt good "Believe it or not, it's called shouting. Pretty creative name isn't it? And before you ask, no I didn't come up with it." They started to make their way into Haven as they talked. A backsmith hammered on a piece of metal from his shop on the other side of the gate, and a number of Chantry soldiers stopped their conversation to stare at him as he passed.

"Sooo, how does it work?"

Marcus paused, thinking a way around the question. "Like I told the Seeker, it's... very complicated, and I don't know if it's exactly safe to explain it at the moment."

"Oooh, a dangerous and mysterious stranger who shows up to save the day, with an equally dangerous and mysterious power." he chuckled "Maybe I should write you in as a character in my next serial."

"Only if I get a 30% cut of the profits." Marcus joked

"Take it up with my publisher." Varric held open the door to the tavern and he took a seat at a table nearest the front door while Varric went to the bar to get the drinks. Marcus could sense a rise in the tension of the room, could practically feel their eyes boring into the back of his head, hushed whispers that they didn't know he could hear. Varric returned to the table with a couple flagons of ale and sat down across from him.

"It doesn't seem that everyone has your point of view on my... unique abilities." He muttered to Varric.

"I might not be afraid of magic, but I get why others are. I've seen what a rogue mage can do at Kirkwall." Varric said, leaning back in his chair. "Just give them time, do the right thing, help people, and they'll learn to accept you, maybe even like you."

* * *

"This "Marcus" needs to be put into custody and questioned." Cassandra said, arms folded across her chest.

"I am in agreement with the Seeker on this matter." Chancellor Roderick said.

"Oh? And who do you plan on getting to do that?" Cullen asked, eyebrow raised. "With the stories the men at the Temple are telling about him, and that display at the gate, none of the men want to go anywhere near him."

"Then I'll do it myself." she said stubbornly

"I wouldn't be so quick to act against him. We don't yet know what he's fully capable of, and he hasn't done anything to suggest he's here to hurt anybody." Leliana spoke up. "We need to be patient, learn what we can about him before we make any sort of judgment on him."

The Seeker opened her mouth in protest, but stopped herself "Fine." she relented. "What are we going to do about the Breach?"

"I have agents in the valley observing the Temple, they have orders to report to me immediately if anything changes with the Breach or more demons appear." Leliana stated.

There was a light knock on the door and Cullen opened it. Solas stood on the other side "May I come in?" he asked politely.

"Yes" Cassandra told him, the elf stepped into the small room and Cullen closed the door behind him. "What have you discovered about this woman's connection to the Breach?"

"I can confirm that her mark is linked with the Breach. The Breach is growing in size. If left unchecked, it will eventually swallow the world into the Fade, and the mark grows as well." He paused. "The mark is killing her. I've managed to slow its spread, but only temporarily."

"There has to be more." Leliana inquired.

"There is. I theorize that this mark may be the key to sealing the Breach permanently, but I do not know for certain. If we could test the mark on something smaller than the Breach itself, it may give us insight into whether her mark will be effective against the Breach."

"Are you serious?" the Chancellor protested. "She is in all likelihood, responsible for the Divine's death and the destruction of the temple, and you're going to trust her with the Breach?"

"We don't have any other options right..." Cullen started

A frantic banging at the door interrupted him mid sentence. "Sister Nightingale, Sister Nightingale!, I have news from the valley!" Cullen opened the door again and the man stumbled into the room, panting from exhaustion. "The Breach! Some sort of pulse... came from it, a number of smaller rifts... opened across the valley... demons everywhere...!"

"Cullen, I'm giving you overall command of the Chantry forces, bring every able bodied soldier into the valley and hold these demons off until the prisoner awakes."

"By your command Seeker," he said with a short bow and was on his way, Solas trailing behind him.

* * *

Halfway through his flagon of ale, Marcus and Varric were interrupted by Cullen slamming the door open. "You two" he said, pointing at them, "Come with me. We have more demons to kill."

"Wonderful" Varric muttered unenthusiastically.

"Alright." Marcus said with a groan. "Just let me get into my damn armor this time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Index  
> Zun Haal Viik - Disarm.


	4. Closing the Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit of a long read.

Marcus lifted the mask Otar to his face, and his deft hands swiftly worked the buckles that clasped it to his head. He had to keep his dark black hair short, and his beard neatly trimmed to fit the mask onto his face. The mask hummed with powerful magical energies like all of its kind did. He had already donned his ebony armor. The midnight black metal was beautifully ornate, crafted to absolute perfection, and incredibly strong and durable. The lobstered shoulder pauldrons, gauntlets, boots, and greaves gave his body maximum protection against any blade or arrow, and Marcus had it heavily enchanted against magical attacks as well. He could take the hits that others could not and keep going. Next he looped his combat belt around his waist. Linked to the combat belt, he had the sheath for his dragonbone sword, a pouch containing healing potions, and empty soul gems, including the Black Star, and a quiver full of steel crossbow bolts, most of them just standard bolts, but with several exploding fire, frost, and shock bolts as well. He slung his enhanced Dwemer crossbow around his shoulder so it rested tightly enough on his back that it would not slip off in combat, but loose enough so that he could have it combat-ready at a moment's notice. Kneeling, he slipped his hand through the arm grip of Spellbreaker, and tightened the leather strap around his forearm.

Standing at nearly 6 and a half feet tall, covered from head to toe in layers of Ebony, and armed to the teeth, he made a terrifying sight to most. Not that it mattered here, as these enraged demons seemed incapable of fear, and would viciously attack any living thing until either it or they were dead. They were similar to the undead draugr that infested most of the ancient Nordic ruins found across Skyrim, though walking corpses were a little less... otherworldly to Marcus. He looked up at Seeker Pentaghast conversing with Cullen, obviously making plans for battle. Solas, the elven apostate stood nearby quietly listening.

"Fancy getup you have there." Varric chortled from his seat nearby as he watched Marcus suit up. "Are you getting ready for battle or going to a ball at the Winter Palace?"

"What's that Varric? I couldn't hear what you said over your raging jealousy." Marcus retorted

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"Come on, hasn't your experience as a writer taught you that the ladies always go after the man in shining armor?"

"Hah! More like the demons. That armor is like a glaring beacon to every demon for miles. It just screams 'Hey! Come and get me!'"

"And if they're not coming after me then guess whose ass they'd be going after? I'd be a little more grateful that I'm gonna be keeping their attention so you won't be getting it. Besides, the armor gets the job done and that's all that really counts."

"Hmph, alright fair enough." he paused studying Marcus' face "How do you see through that mask? Those view slits are tiny."

Marcus just shrugged

"If you two are quite finished, there is a battle going on right now." Cullen reminded them. Cassandra gave Marcus one last threatening glare, before she left to return to the Chantry.

"Right, sorry Curly." Varric said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. They joined him at a makeshift war table where he and Solas poured over a map given to him by one of Leliana's agents.

"Do you have a plan, Commander?" Marcus asked

"Here's what I'm thinking. I'm going to split our forces into two groups. The first, larger, group will push forward through the valley, and clear a path to the Temple. Once we are close enough, we'll set up a forward camp here." He pointed to one of the bridges spanning the frozen river. "From there, we can stage an assault on the Temple itself. The second group will remain in this part of the valley and do what it can to keep it clear of demons so reinforcements can move freely up to the forward camp."

"That sounds like a truly wonderful plan Curly, but I don't see how it'll matter if we can't seal the rifts that all these demons are pouring out of." stated Varric

"Solas?" Cullen said.

"It all centers around that woman you two found in the Temple. he gestured towards Cullen and Marcus. "The mark on her hand is connected to the Breach, the magic that opened it also created the mark, and hypothetically should be able to close it. Since the rifts are just smaller extensions of the larger Breach, the mark should be able to close them as well... hypothetically."

"Oh good, I do love a bit of uncertainty in apocalypse. Keeps things interesting." snorted Varric.

Cullen ignored him and turned to Marcus. "You're with me." he turned towards the other two "Varric, Solas, there's a rift here." He pointed to another spot on the map. "It's the only one in this part of the valley and I need you to contain any demons that come through it. Seeker Pentaghast will join you with the prisoner when she awakens, if she closes the rift, the four of you will regroup with us at the forward camp." With the three of them briefed, Cullen moved off to explain the plan to his men and divide them accordingly.

"Looks like you'll have to hide behind Solas for this one." Marcus chuckled halfheartedly, and the smile dropped from his face. "Take care." he looked to Solas, despite barely knowing him "the both of you."

"Dareth shiral, farewell, and safe journey Marcus." Solas said with a nod

"Yeah, what he said." Varric echoed

The three of them looked to Cullen as he finished briefing his men on their missions. A small group of them broke off from the rest and moved to join Varric and Solas. Without another word they moved down the road to the gate into the valley and disappeared around the corner.

"Form up on me, we're moving out!" Cullens voice boomed, the men quickly and competently followed his orders and got they were in marching formation in no time. Small flakes of snow drift towards the ground in a lazy swaying pattern and a freezing wind bites at any exposed flesh as they set off at a quick jog. They down the same road as Varric and Solas' group had traversed, catching a glimpse of them as they passed through the gate and around the bend into the valley. Shortly there after, they passed through the gate and traveled up the path, crossing the first bridge, and continuing on towards the Temple. Soldiers were hard at work setting up barricades and thrusting sharpened stake into the ground, pointing towards the Breach. Green meteors plummeted from the Breach towards the ground, setting much of the valley ablaze. In the distance Marcus could see a fade rift, in all likelihood, it was the one Varric and Solas were going to.

The roars and shrieks of demons could be heard, carried throughout the valley by the heavy winds. He could sense the tension, the nerves of men beginning to break. It was likely that most of them had never even seen combat before, let alone fought a horde of ravenous demons. With the destruction of the war and the Templars leaving the Chantry, the most they could scrounge up were half-trained boys and old men. In a way he pitied them. None of them had his gifts, or his experience and many of them would die before this was over. He made a silent promise that he would do everything he could to save as many of them as he could. These men and boys who he didn't know, who didn't know him, and feared him for what he was. None of that mattered because Marcus was the man who took these burdens upon himself, If he could make the difference between life and death for them, then it was worth putting himself in the foremost danger. Because he could take it.

"Commander." he said to Cullen, "We can't just go walking into this valley blind. Let me take two men and scout ahead. We can move more quickly on our own. We'll kill as many demons as we can and report back when the way is clear."

Cullen rubbed his eyes with a gloved hand. Marcus could see the fatigue getting to him, he obviously hadn't gotten any rest since the explosion either, but Marcus was accustomed to it. Cullen hadn't even put on a helmet. With a sigh, he turned to Marcus. "You would go out there on your own? Are you insane?"

"Perhaps, but you're an exhausted mess." he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "And to be honest, your men aren't ready for this..." he paused, "Not that anybody could be ready for this, but they need more training, more experience. By the look of things, I have more of both than the lot of them combined. I'm doing this to avoid unnecessary deaths."

"Alright... Lysette, Harding, you're with Marcus, follow his orders and try not to get yourselves killed" Cullen told him, he reached behind him and unclasped a war horn from his belt. "Give this one blow for help, two blows for the all clear. We'll regroup with you as quickly as possible." Marcus took the horn and clasped it to his own belt before turning to continue on into the valley, Cullen's voice stopped him. "Thank you, Marcus. We owe the three of you a great deal." Marcus nodded and the trio continued on their path.

Marcus recognized Lysette as the Templar woman he'd fought beside in the Temple from the previous night. From what he remembered of that battle, she'd fought well and had kept her head while many of the others were beginning to panic. He appreciated having a battle-hardened, and dedicated soldier covering his back. Harding was a dwarven woman, and one of Leliana's scouts. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm, talent, intelligence, and a keen eye. The trio continued on further into the valley while the rest of the force maintained position at the foot of the bridge.

They made their way further into the valley, only running into a few wraiths every now and again. They were weak prey, and easily dealt with by sword and arrow.

Their boots made a soft crunching sound in the thin layer of snow coating the ground as they crested the ridge line that lay before the frozen river. Marcus slowly peeked his head above the peak of the hill, to observe the icy surface of the river. Below him, three demons roamed the frozen water aimlessly. Two shades wandering the middle of the ice and a wraith near the far bank, the demons obviously hadn't seen them. It was a perfect time to take advantage of their bows. Marcus unstrapped his crossbow from around his back, and looking back down the hill, he motioned for Harding to do the same with her short bow and to follow him up. Lysette lacked a bow and stayed below, covering the other two from any flanking demons that might surprise them. The trio watched as green meteors continued to rain from the breach, dispersing demons all across the frozen river valley between Haven and the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

"How good is your aim?" Marcus whispered to Harding.

"Good enough." she replied with a smile.

"Alright, do you think you can hit the wraith?"

She paused for a moment, judging the distance, wind-speed and direction. "Shouldn't be too much trouble." She nocked an arrow to the bowstring.

Marcus loaded a bolt onto his crossbow. "I'll aim for the shade closest to us. Wait until my command, and once you've fired, string another arrow and kill the last shade."

"Got it. Wait... how do you even see out of that helmet, or mask or whatever it is?" All she got for an answer was a shrug.

Marcus waited until the wind had died down to a near standstill before giving Harding the order to loose her arrow. Her arrow found its target in the near translucent wraith, striking the demon square in the chest. It jerked to a halt, and collapsed dead before sinking into the ground. Marcus took a deep breath and slowly let it out when he fired a steel bolt straight through the one glowing eye of the shade. It thrashed violently, striking out at nothing before also dying. Before the first shade had even melted into the frozen earth, Harding had loosed another arrow into the second, hitting it mid torso, but unlike the wraith, and the first shade, this one didn't die. It flew into a rage and charged up the hill after them, only to finally be put down by another arrow from Harding and a bolt from Marcus' crossbow.

Marcus slung the crossbow back over his shoulder and gave the all clear to Lysette at the bottom of the hill and she climbed up to join them before all three slid down the slope to the riverbank. Several houses lined the shore, some of them burning. Sheer cliffs running many feet high stood at far side of the river. There was only one break in the cliffs low enough for them to move through continue on towards the bridge Cullen wanted to set up camp on. Steps carved into the stone led up from the riverbed and into the hills. It looked like they were going to have to cross here. "Wait." Marcus told them, holding up his hand. "I'm the heaviest, I'll go first, test the ice to see if it's safe for us to cross."

"Very well, but be careful." Lysette warned him.

He started out across the river slowly, taking his time and paying close attention to the ice, looking for any signs of cracks or severe strain. His breaths came rapidly, and his muscles tensed up at every creak or groan the ice made beneath his feet. The last thing anybody wanted would be to fall through the ice and either drown or freeze to death. Normally he'd just shout himself across, but the others couldn't and he needed to make sure it was safe for them. He had just about reached the halfway point across the river, he was almost there...

*CRACK!*

Marcus looked down, his heart pounding in his chest, ready to burst out through his ribcage. Where his left foot had landed on the ice, it had made a shallow impression. From there, thin cracks in the ice, like the freakishly long, spindly legs of some hideous spider spread out for a few feet around him. The ice strained and cracked, but seemed like it was still managing to hold his weight. Just as he was about to take another slow, tentative step, he heard a shout from Harding on the bank.

"Look out!!!" Marcus looked up to see one of the green meteors from the Breach plummeting towards him. Before he could move, it slammed into the ice 40 feet away from him, shattering it like glass hit by a rock. The ice beneath his feet began to rock and split apart at an alarming rate. He turned towards the far bank and inhaled.

"WULD NAH KEST!" the shout sent him rocketing forward to the far bank. He slammed face first into a snowbank, narrowly missing several trees that dotted the shore. He managed to push himself to his feet and brush all the snow off of himself before rushing back to the bank. The ice had been broken from bank to bank. Large chunks of it floated freely in the water, drifting lazily with the current. There was no way for them to cross safely now, and no way for him to cross back over.

"Are you alright!?" Lysette called from the other side of the river. Harding stood beside her.

"Yeah, uhh... yeah, I'm fine!" He shouted back. "Shit..." he muttered under his breath.

"Should we try to find another place to cross?!" Harding shouted.

"No!" Marcus replied. "Go back to Cullen, tell him what's happened! I'll continue on towards the bridge!"

They others would have to find another way across, or wait until the ice refroze across this particular ford. Marcus reached down to his belt and felt the horn still intact. Good. He watched Harding and Lysette climb their way back up the ridge and disappear over the horizon before turning and continuing on up his path towards the bridge where Cullen wanted to set up the forward camp, going higher and higher into the hills. Everything was eerily quiet. No birds sung their songs, no fennecs, nugs, or scampered among the trees lining the dirt path. No rams butted heads or grazed on the few plants growing out of the cold hard ground. No packs of wolves could be heard howling in the distance. The demons had driven them away, or killed those unable to flee. There were a number of bodies and burning wagons, people unfortunate enough to be caught out here by the demons. There was nothing Marcus could do for them.

The silence was overbearing, the only sounds were the rustling of the branches and pine needles as the breeze blew through the woods, the steady, methodical crunch of his boots in the snow, and the clinking of his armor as the Ebony plates lightly tapped together as he walked. Light grey clouds still filled the sky and the snow continued to drift down in its lazy swaying descent. Even through the trees he could see the Breach, hanging there in the sky, great balls of ugly green fire continued to fall through the Breach from the Fade. Many of those would contain demons. The air around the Breach itself seemed to defy physics. Great lumps of stone from the mountainside and pieces of the temple floated near the massive tear in the sky. Marcus was so caught up staring up at that sickly green monstrosity that he almost didn't notice the scrawny tree step into his path.

The "tree" gave a ear shattering shriek that nearly forced Marcus to his knees as he cried out in pain. Through blurry watering eyes, he gazed up at the demon, because what else could it be? It was bipedal and humanoid, like most demons, but this one was freakishly taller, with extremely elongated limbs, each arm ending with a brutally clawed hand and a barbed tail. There were many dark, beady eyes dotting its face and it's jaw was hideously dislocated, with the freaks mouth permanently forced open, the jaw hanging down over its chest in a perpetual scream.

Marcus barely got Spellbreaker up in time as those claws raked across the enchanted shield. The force of the blow sent the unprepared Marcus reeling backwards, almost losing his balance. He desperately tried to yank his sword from his belt, but it stuck in its scabbard. He was defenseless... Wait, what was he thinking? Marcus Tiberius Aquila Duronius was never defenseless.

"FO KRAH DIIN!" His breath was like the most intense of blizzards. It slowed the demon down and hurt it. The freak screeched as its flesh blackened and froze almost instantly, but it wasn't dead yet. Marcus finally managed to pull his damned sword from his belt and stood ready to meet the demon's charge, but the charge never came. Instead, he watched as it tore a hole into the ground with some sort of foul magic and slipped through the portal. Marcus saw a faint green light rise up around him and looked down at his feet, just in time to see the demon fly up from the ground, slam into him, and send him sprawling on the freezing ground on his ass. Marcus bit his tongue hard on impact and he could taste blood. The shrieking horror gave another shriek before charging him, clawed hand outstretched, ready for the kill. Marcus rolled to the side, waiting until the last second. The beast missed him and the force of the swipe knocked the stupid thing off balance. He drove his sword up into its exposed stomach

The fucking thing gave another roar of pain, but still refused to die and Marcus was losing his temper. It wasn't often that something came this close to killing him. The demon stumbled at him clumsily, blood pouring from the wound in its stomach and leaving a nasty red trail across the white ground. It made a slow, downwards swipe at Marcus, which he easily sidestepped, and then promptly removed said arm at the elbow with single swing of his sword. Blood spurted across the front of Marcus' mask as he cut the demons legs out from under it. Laying face down in the snow, it made one final, feeble attempt to kill him with its only remaining limb before Marcus drove his sword point through the back of its head, finally killing the damned thing.

He left the body to disintegrate into nothing and be sucked back into the Fade. He continued on down the path at a steady jog, not allowing him to be distracted by anything other than what was immediately around him. It had almost gotten him killed once, and nobody could say that Marcus Duronius didn't learn from his mistakes. In the next clearing, another meteor from the breach slammed through the treetops, smashing into the ground and leaving a small crater. A shade rose from the burning wreckage, its one eye glowing menacingly. Marcus wasted no time in decapitating the demon before continuing on, moving uphill. Two wraiths tried to waylay him, rather unsuccessfully. Their magic dissipated harmlessly against the Spellbreaker's ward enchantment and his sword cut through them both with ease. He was surprised at how light resistance had been on his little mission, but he knew that the rest of the valley wasn't like this, and with the meteors raining demons down from the breach they could be attacked from anywhere.

As he reached the top, he saw the bridge in question directly in front of him. He thanked Talos that the bridge was deserted as he reached the open wooden gates to the towers that lined his side. Marcus reached up to unclasp Otar from his face but stopped. He and listened, smelled the air and observed his surroundings. It was always better to take a few minutes to ensure your safety, rather tan be sorry that you hadn't. He heard nothing but the shrill whistling of the wind. When he was absolutely certain that there were no demons trying to sneak up on him, he pulled back his hood and worked at the buckles holding Otar to his face. His hands, accustomed to the action managed to get it off in a few seconds. Which was great because his nose itched like Oblivion. After scratching his nose and beard, and running his gauntleted hands through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow. He raised Cullen's warhorn to his lips and sounded it twice.

* * *

About half an hour later, Cullen and the rest of his troop arrived, along with Harding and Lysette. If the ice spanning the river hadn't broken they would have gotten there sooner. They had to take a long detour further down the river to find a good spot to ford it. The men immediately began to set up a command post and guards were posted at the towers on both sides of the bridge. Cullen sent Harding back to Haven with a message that the forward camp had been set up and that they required new orders. The land between the new forward camp and the Temple was still swarming with demons, and Marcus found himself continuing to fight them off as they cam pouring out of the Breach to assault their new position. They fought in shifts, which Marcus was grateful for since he really needed to sit down for a moment.

After a day or so of constant battle, Leliana arrived with another contingent of soldiers, and rather surprisingly, the old Chancellor from Haven, who gave Marcus a rather unthankful glare. Marcus briefly introduced himself to Leliana, and they met with Cullen briefly to discuss their next plans. Apparently the prisoner that he'd found in the Temple had woken up and Cassandra was taking her to the rift that Solas and Varric were fighting at and that they would be coming here if she managed to close it. Cullen then left to rejoin his men on the field, and the extra soldiers Leliana had brought with her did immensely to help bolster the ranks, and they managed to push the demons away from the camp.

Marcus' two minutes of rest and relaxation ended when another Fade rift opened up just outside of the gate he'd entered through. With an exhausted groan he stood up grabbed his shield and went to deal with the demons pouring forth from the Fade. Just as he cut a Shade in two, he noticed a few familiar faces climbing up the steps. He couldn't help but smiling, even if the Seeker was among them.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to join the real action" he chirped, a smirk crossing his lips as he beheaded a wraith. "I take it the mark can seal rifts? I'd certainly appreciate a little help with this one."

"It's good to see you still in one piece, uhhh... I still need to come up with a nickname for you.

The five of them and the archers at the gate managed to slay all the demons quickly.

"Hurry, use the mark!" Solas told said and the woman with the marked hand sealed the rift with a brilliant flash of green light.

"Well done. I was getting tired of killing these damned things." Marcus quipped. "I'm glad to see you are well, Lady...?"

"Trevelyan, Evelyn Trevelyan." she replied, studying his face. "Do I know you? You look familiar but I don't know your name..."

"Ah, where are my manners." he said with an awkward smile. "Marcus Duronius. I was one of the men who brought you back from the Temple."

Her face hardened and she fixed him with a hard stare. "I'm not really sure if I should thank you for that, seeing as how I was chained to the floor and threatened with execution..."

"I'm truly sorry." he said softly. "Believe it or not, I can relate. But I didn't know that this was how the Chantry treated people in need." His cold gaze fell on Seeker Cassandra and she returned it in equal measure.

"Enough idle chit-chat." She said forcefully. "The Rift is gone. Open the gate." she ordered the archers.

"Right away Lady Cassandra." One of them replied, pushing the gate open for them.

"Where is Sister Leliana?" Cassandra demanded from Marcus.

"It's wonderful to see you too again. Seeker Pentaghast." Marcus replied. "She's on the bridge talking with Chancellor Roderick." The Seeker said nothing more to him, instead pushing past him and through the gate.

"We're clear for the moment." Solas said as they passed through the gate. "Well done."

"Whatever that thing on your hand is, it's useful." Varric told Evelyn.

Only a few soldiers remained on the bridge, the majority of them were out in the field. Weapons, chests, and barricaded lined the bridge and he could see Leliana speaking to the Chancellor leaned over a table, neither of them noticing the five approaching. More meteors from the Breach fell, some of them landing uncomfortably close to the bridge.

"We must prepare the soldiers!" Leliana said in her thick Orlesian accent.

"We will do no such thing!" Roderick replied harshly.

"The prisoner must get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!"

"You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility!"

"I have caused trouble?" Leliana said indignantly, her arms crossed over her chest.

As they finally neared the table, the Chancellor finally found them worthy of his notice. "Ah, here they come." He said, less than enthusiastically.

"You made it." Leliana said, voicing her relief, she gestured to Evelyn. "Chancellor Roderick, this is.-"

"I know who she is." he continued. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeux to face execution!"

"Order ME?!" The Seeker scoffed in disgust. "You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!"

"And you are a thug. But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry." was the Chancellor's rebuttal. Marcus just stood there listening to them argue, grateful that it wasn't about him. He looked over at Evelyn who was visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Leliana stepped in to try to relieve the building tension. "We serve the most Holy, Chancellor." She turned her head sharply to Cassandra, fixing her hard gaze upon her. "As you well know."

"Justinia is dead!" Roderick nearly shouted through gritted teeth. "We must elect a replacement and obey HER orders on the matter."

Finally Evelyn spoke up in her defense. "Isn't the Breach the more pressing issue?"

"YOU brought this on us in the first place!"

Seeker Pentaghast pushed through and placed her hands on the table, glaring at Roderick.

"Call a retreat Seeker, our position here is hopeless." the Chancellor said with a sigh.

"We can stop this before it's too late!" the Seeker replied. Determined

"How? You won't survive long enough to reach the Temple. Even with all of your soldiers."

"We must get to the Temple, it's the quickest route." Cassandra said

"But not the safest." Leliana chimed in. "Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains."

"We lost an entire squad on that path. It's too risky." Cassandra told her. 'So,' Marcus thought. 'I wasn't the first one to come through here.'

"Listen to me." Roderick pleaded. "Abandon this now, before more lives are lost." By coincidence, the ground shook the Breach decided to flare violently as soon as he was finished speaking. Evelyn's marked hand flared as brilliantly as the Breach, and Cassandra turned towards her.

"How do you think we should proceed?"

Evelyn looked flabbergasted. It seemed like the last thing she was expecting was for somebody to actually want her opinion. "I... I don't know what to do. Why are you asking me?."

"Might I speak?" Marcus said

"No." The Seeker said without hesitation.

"I think the four of you should take the mountain trail. We know what the direct route looks like, and this one might be safer in the long run. Also, you might find those missing scouts. You could save them if they are still alive." He turned his head looking at everybody. "I'll push forward through the valley with the main force and maybe be able to save some lives."

"You're just one man? What difference could you make against a horde of demons?" Evelyn asked.

"I have a... unique skill set." Marcus replied vaguely. "Trust me, I've thought everything through, this is the best choice, but in the end it is still yours to make."

Evelyn looked at everybody there. "Does anybody else have any thoughts?"

"I think it's a sound plan." Solas said.

"Yeah, what could go wrong that already hasn't?" Varric chimed in.

Evelyn stood there, thinking for a moment, she looked up at the Seeker. "Alright. We go through the Mountains."

The Seeker shook her head in disapproval, but didn't say anything. Marcus watched as the four of them moved to the mountain pass before donning Otar again and moving to join the soldiers preparing for the attack. He climbed the hill as more green meteors fell from the Breach and after a short hike he'd reached the front lines. The sounds of battle filled the air. Screams of the wounded and dying, and the roars of demons could be heard over the howling of the wind. It was time to get to work. He passed through a stone gateway and the first thing he saw was another rift.

"Shit." he muttered. He had no way to close it, and he didn't know how many demons it could spawn. A number of Chantry soldiers were engaged with some shades while wraiths bombarded them with magic from afar. Wasting no time, he held Spellbreaker in front of him and charged the nearest shade at a full sprint, just as it cut down one of he soldiers. It looked up at him just in time to have several hundred pounds of metal and muscle slam into it, smashing it to the ground. He drove his sword through the demon's chest, finishing it off for good. Another shade was killed and he turned his attention to the wraiths. They weren't much of a threat to begin with. They were slow, weak, and their magical attacks couldn't break through his enchantments. He cut them both down with minimal effort. Beams of light flew from the rift into the ground and three more shades and another two wraiths were forced into the physical world from the Fade.

He hacked the head off of the first shade as it came at him and got his shield up just in time to block a blow from the second. He moved around, changing his position and trying to line up all the demons to catch them all in a shout. With some effort, he managed to get both of the shades in front of him.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" The two shades lit up like cloth covered in pitch. They roared in pain and rage before the fire consumed them entirely. Some of the men who hadn't seen him in action before took a moment to stare in shock. Marcus ignored them. There were still the wraiths to deal with. He killed them as swiftly as he had the others before. Just as he thought it was over, the rift flared again and this time two of the kind of demon he'd fought in the forest leapt out of the portals in the ground.

"Ughhh, fuck me." he groaned audibly. The first one of them nearly cut a man in half with a slash to the abdomen, he was dead before he even hit the ground. The second opened a tear in the ground, but Marcus wouldn't let it knock him on his ass like the one in the forest had.

"Iiz Slen Nus!" the demon was encased in ice, unable to move or fight, or flee. He smashed the freak as hard as he could with his shield and it shattered spectacularly. The second demon gave the same ear shattering shriek the one in the forest had, but was cut short by a sword forced up its throat. Cullen had finally arrived. The rift closed and no more demons came through but it wasn't sealed and remained there hovering in the air.

"I was wondering where you were." Marcus said.

"I got the word that the prisoner was awake and that the men were charging as a distraction so she could get to the Temple." Cullen replied. "Sorry I'm late, let's continue on to the ruins"

"What about the rift?" Marcus asked.

"There's nothing we can do about it." Cullen told him. "Come on."

Marcus gave the unnatural, pale green hole in the air one last look before following Cullen. The Temple was much the same as it had been when he'd first been there. Enormous jagged pieces of blasted stone jutted up from the ground. The charred and broken bodies remained as they had when the blast had taken their lives and smoke filled the air from the many fires that burned throughout the surrounding area. He cleaned the blood off of his sword with a piece of cloth and returned it to its sheath. He sat down on a small boulder near the entrance to the Temple, and maybe ten minutes later, he saw the party of four that had traversed through the mountains.

"Oh good, you made it." Marcus said. "Any longer and I would have had to go up there myself and look for you."

Cassandra glared at him. It seemed like she was always glaring at somebody. "How many men did we lose?"

Marcus paused for a moment, thinking. "Two."

"Only two?!"

"That's what I said."

The six of them moved into the Temple, still unchanged from before. "You were right about going through the mountains." Solas said. "We no only found the scouts, but we managed to rescue the survivors."

"That's good to hear." Cullen replied. They all stared up at the Breach, hundreds of feet in the sky.

"That Breach is a long way up." Varric said

Marcus heard footsteps behind them and turned, a few seconds later Leliana and the surviving soldiers joined them.

"You're hear. Thank the Maker!" she said, her voice full of relief.

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the Temple." Cassandra ordered. The Nightingale nodded and started giving orders, positioning her men where there skills would be best put to use.

"This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?" Cassandra asked Evelyn.

"I'm assuming you have a plan to get me up there?" she replied.

"Maybe Marcus has a shout that could fly you up?" Varric said. Marcus could tell that the prospect of flying made Evelyn uncomfortable. Not that it mattered.

"Sadly, I do not." Marcus told him.

"What's a shout?" Evelyn asked.

"Oh, right, you don't know." Marcus said. "It's a unique magical ability that I have, I can project power through my voice. Just ask our Lady Seeker." eliciting another glare from Cassandra. She really ought to try a different expression, lest her face be stuck in a permanent angry stare.

"Oh." She said, not really sure of what to make of this.

"Unnecessary." Solas told them. "This rift is the first and it is the key. Seal it and perhaps we seal the Breach."

"Then lets find a way down, and be careful." Cassandra said.

They mantled the stone railing that stood before them and dropped a short ways into the courtyard. A disembodied voice spoke, it sounded as though it came from the rift. "Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."

"What are we hearing?" the Seeker asked

"At a guess, the person who created the Breach." Solas replied grimly.

As the group approached the rift, the mark on Evelyn's hand began to glow more brightly. Another voice called out from the rift. This one a woman. "Someone help me!"

A third voice spoke out from the rift. This time it was Evelyn's "What's going on here?"

"That was your voice..." Cassandra said "Most Holy called out to you but..." She was interrupted as the rift flared once again and a blurred image formed in the air in front of it. A dark figure with glowing red eyes stood in front of an old woman Marcus assumed to be Divine Justinia. Evelyn appeared in the image.

"What's going on here?"

"Run while you can! Warn them!" The Divine cried.

"We have an intruder. Kill him, now!" the shadow commanded. The rift flared in another brilliant flash of light and the image disappeared.

"Huh." Marcus said. Completely unsure of what to make of all of this.

"You WERE there!" Cassandra cried. "Who attacked? And the Divine is she...? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?"

"I don't remember!" Evelyn said defensively, putting her hand up in front of her.

"Echos of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place." Solas spoke up. "This rift is closed but it is not sealed. Albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely." The elf paused. "However, opening the rift will likely attention from the other side."

"That means demons." Cassandra shouted to Leliana's men. "Stand ready!" Leliana's soldiers drew their swords and took up positions around the rift. Her archers held the high ground around the blasted and ruined courtyard, nocking arrows to their bows. Cassandra nodded to Evelyn and drew her own sword. The young woman lifted her marked hand towards the rift and a green light extended from it in a stream. The rift burst open and a demon far larger than any Marcus had seen before materialized in the Courtyard. A great horned beast with many beady little eyes, and skin like stone. Marcus was getting really sick of this shit.

"Rii Vaaz Zol!" The demon jerked violently, bathed in a deathly purple light. its muscles tensing up, it teetered back in forth before slowly falling forward, slamming face first into the ground with an earth shaking thud. Dead. Everybody stared at him in complete silence. Even the rift wasn't making any noise. A few of the soldiers backed away from him slowly. Most surprisingly of all, Cassandra's glare was gone, replaced by a look of confusion, with something that seemed somewhat like fear mixed in.

"What the fuck just happened?!" Varric sputtered in utter disbelief, breaking the silence.

"I ripped the soul out of its body." Marcus replied with a yawn. "I honestly don't have the energy for another fight like what this would have been. Besides, who knows how many people that thing would have killed."

"Except it's not dead!" Evelyn cried, pointing at the demon as it got to its feet, still bathed in the purple glow.

"No, no, it's quite dead." Marcus replied casually. "The shout has the additional effect of reanimating the corpse of whatever I kill with it. The effect will wear off in a few minutes."

"Fascinating." Solas said in wonder.

Evelyn slowly walked over to the rift, and extended her hand towards it like she had when opening it. The stream of green light connected her mark to the rift and it buckled under the onslaught. Then it exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Index  
> Wuld Nah Kest - Whirlwind Sprint  
> Fo Krah Diin - Frost Breath  
> Yol Toor Shul - Fire Breath  
> Rii Vaaz Zol - Soul Tear  
> 


	5. Boredom in Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rather uneventful chapter. The Herald's off on an important mission and Marcus is stuck in Haven with nothing to do.

_The ancient tomb stank of many a millennium of death and decay as all Nordic tombs did. He never should have taken those skulls from their pedestals. He never should have opened that coffin. He never should have come here. But greed and curiosity got the better of him. The ancient texts he had found around the ruin referred to him as Otar the Mad and that should have been clue enough for him. A lot of good hindsight did for the both of them as she lay dying in his arms. She held onto his hand with her own while he gently stroked her hair with his free hand as the pool of blood spread from the gaping wound in her abdomen across the floor. No potion or spell would be enough to save her. She knew it and he knew it. Her breaths came ragged and labored filled with soft cries of agony as he sat there, trying to give her what little comfort he could before the end. She was calm, almost serene. She knew what was happening and she had accepted it while he wouldn't... couldn't accept it. His body trembled in rage, fear, and misery as tears began to well up in his eyes, unbidden._

_Seeing this, she reached up with her free hand and cupped his cheek gently. She tried to speak, but her lips couldn't form the words she had wanted to say as he continued to stroke her hair with a loving gentleness he didn't know himself to be capable of. She stared up at him, bright green eyes making contact with his pale blue. They told him what her words could not. They told him that it was going to be okay, that she was going to a better place, and that he would move on. That they would one day be reunited in Aetherius. That she loved him completely. And... and that this wasn't his fault and he shouldn't live his life blaming himself for what had happened. But how could he not? She put her trust in him. Followed him through hell and back countless times. They were supposed to protect each other and now she lay dying and he yet survived unharmed. Either he had failed or the gods were playing some sort of cruel joke on him. The pool of blood continued to spread across the cold stone floor of Ragnvald. He was sitting the pool of crimson, but he did even notice. He held her head against his chest as her breathing began to slow and her pulse weakened._

_The woman he loved sighed her last breath. Her hand fell from his cheek to rest at her side and her grip on his hand loosened but he held on to it. Her now lifeless green eyes stared up at the cavernous ceiling of Otar the Mad's crypt. He moved his free hand down to close them. Despite all the blood she looked peaceful, as though she was just in a deep, dreamless sleep. He couldn't keep himself together any longer. His tears descended into heaving sobs as he sat in that ancient tomb, alone surrounded by death._

* * *

Marcus' eyes flicked open. Shouts and the clash of steel against steel echoed from outside his tent. Still groggy from sleep, his warrior's instincts kicked in before his conscious thought. He leapt from his bed, grabbed his sword from its sheath and burst through the mouth of his tent in nothing by his nightclothes, thinking it must have been a Stormcloak raid. The mountain air was freezing against his bare skin, and it was snowing again. Outside, several dozen men were clashing swords and shields but none of them wore the distinct blue uniform of the Stormcloak rebels, or the red-brown skirted armor of the Imperal Legion. Several of them stopped to stare at the half-naked man with a sword, one of them laughed quietly before being quickly silenced by a comrade, others looked away quickly avoiding his gaze. Then his mind woke up along with his body and he remembered. He wasn't in Skyrim, or Tamriel, or even Nirn. He was in Thedas in the small settlement of Haven with the Inquisition. Cullen and his Templars were training the new recruits for battle bright and early in the morning.

He suddenly felt embarrassment wash over him and his already well tanned face reddened even further. He glanced up at the Breach, still floating up in the sky, but thankfully no longer growing or spewing demons like it had been after the Temple exploded. Evelyn had seen to that with her marked hand, but she lacked the power to close it completely. The subsequent back-blast from the rift had knocked her unconscious for three days. It started first as whispers between some of the more superstitious servants, but quickly spread throughout Haven and even beyond that Evelyn was the Herald of Andraste, much to the poor girl's obvious dismay and discomfort. People of all races who followed the religion of the Maker believed that Andraste, the Maker's prophet and wife, had sent Evelyn to Thedas to save the world from the Breach. Cassandra and Leliana built on their beliefs to reforge the Inquisition of old to fully close the Breach and end the Mage-Templar war, much to the ire of the Chantry. It hadn't taken long for the surviving Chantry officials in Val Royeaux to declare the Inquisition a heretical movement and condemn all of its actions. Seeing this as the best chance for him to do some good in his time here, Marcus had pledged his service to the Inquisition much to the chagrin of Cassandra who refused to trust him and had not so quietly hoped that he would disappear into the night without a trace.

Evelyn was in the Ferelden Hinterlands and had been for a couple of weeks. She was meeting with one of the Chantry mothers who was sympathetic to the Inquisition's cause and had offered her help in dealing with the Grand Cathedral. She'd taken Solas, Varric, and Seeker Pentaghast with her, though Marcus had offered his services to fight alongside her in the field, but she had declined this time. The Inquisition's leading council, comprised of the Seeker, Leliana, Cullen, and the most recent arrival, Josephine Montilyet, an ambassador from Antiva, and an old friend of Leliana's, had decided that sending out a party of more than four would be too much of a drain on the Inquisition's resources. So Marcus had been resigned to stay in Haven and help however he could until the next foray into the wilds by the Herald.

She and Marcus hadn't spoken much at all since the Temple, and he could tell she was wary around him... just like everybody else. He knew Cassandra disliked him and Leliana seemed distant from most people, and was usually very occupied with her work. Josephine was amiable, though he had little cause to speak with her, and she was constantly occupied with some guest or dignitary. Even Varric and Cullen were unnerved by the whole incident at the Temple with the pride demon. Obviously neither of them had seen a man tear the soul out of one of the most powerful demon forms as casually as one might sneeze. Solas was another story. He seemed very interested in Marcus and his power, or in the least, not afraid of him, but hadn't directly voiced that interest to him besides a few surface questions, he seemed hesitant to probe more deeply, likely because Marcus was hesitant to answer. All in all, his time with the Inquisition was, well... it was kind of boring. He was sick and tired of just sitting around Haven, drinking at the tavern or reading a book while the others were off changing the world. He was more powerful than any of them and his power should be used against those who would sow chaos and destruction. Against those who would harm the innocent.

Marcus retreated back inside his tent and threw on some clean clothes and a warm fur coat to protect against the cold Frostback Mountain air, and looped his sword belt around his waist before stepping outside again. The Inquisition's leading council had offered to find him quarters inside the gate but he had politely declined the offer, figuring that people would be more comfortable with him where he was. He gazed again at the Breach with its flashing green lights and floating chunks of stone. While nothing good had ever come out of it, it had an odd, apocalyptic beauty to it that he couldn't put to words. It looked almost like... No. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He strode over to Cullen who was busy yelling at one of the recruits for swinging his shield around like a hammer rather than using to cover his body.

"NO. NO. NO! If this man were your enemy you'd be dead!" Cullen shouted. "Keep the shield in front of you for Andraste's sake! Don't use it like a bludgeon!"

The soldier's face turned about as red as a tomato. He tried to avert his gaze away from the commander and instead had it fall on Marcus. His face quickly drained of all of its bright color and he took a half step backwards. Marcus gave the man a friendly smile, but that didn't seem to help at all.  Cullen followed the recruit's gaze and saw Marcus just as he reached them.

"Good morning." Marcus said.

"Morning" Cullen replied, slightly averting his gaze, pretending to be paying attention to the men at drills.

"How goes the training?"

"Slowly..." Cullen replied. "But they're starting to get the hang of it. Some of them even know what part of the sword to hit the enemy with." an unusual jest from the typically stoic Templar.

"I was wondering if you needed any help with this morning's drills. I'm not particularly busy here, and I'd like to be able to help out somehow."

"Oh, uhhh... No, we don't need you here..." He stuttered. "Um, I uhh... I only meant that we have enough trainers. Perhaps you could ask Sister Leliana, or maybe Ambassador Montilyet if they need anything done."

Marcus shrugged "So be it."

He turned and strode into town smiling and greeting people as he passed. He was almost desperate to get people to like him. Seggrit the merchant crossed his arms and nodded as Marcus passed by his table. A few people greeted him nervously as he passed by, a few smiles, some waves, an occasional "hello" or "good morning". Many others chose to ignore him completely as he made his way up to the Nightingale's tent in front of the Chantry, where the spymaster conducted the Inquisition's intelligence and reconnaissance operations. He passed by Varric's usual haunt right below Leliana's tent and climbed the short rise that lead him into the Chantry courtyard, now abuzz with activity. Thrynn, the Inquisition's quartermaster was arguing with a man about needing new blades to equip the Inquisition's growing army. He saw Leliana kneeling in prayer inside of her tent. Though they had talked little since Marcus had met her, there was something he liked about the Orlesian that he liked. Maybe it was her playful banter, or maybe it was her dedication to the cause. She worked tirelessly as the Inquisition's spymaster and couldn't help but admire that in her.

* * *

"Maker, my enemies are abundant.  
Many are those who rise up against me.  
But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion  
Should they set themselves against me."

"Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,  
I shall embrace the light  
I shall endure  
What you have created no one can tear asunder."

The crunching of boots on the snow and gravel brought Leliana's attention back to reality. She looked up from her small shrine to see Marcus approaching her tent. She stood and faced him, arms crossed behind her back with a smile. She studied him, noting the way he walked, a sort of rigid disciplined step that was trademark of a trained soldier. His sword rested on the left side of his belt, telling her he was right handed, though she already knew this. His face was a mystery to her. He lips were curled upwards into a slight smile as he approached her, trying to look friendly. His pale blue, almost grey eyes showed little of what he might have been thinking or feeling.

"Hello Marcus." She said.

"Oh..." he started "I hope I'm not interrupting your prayers."

"Not at all, I've just finished. Now, is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, I was hoping that there was something I could help you with." he replied still smiling. "I've been stuck here in Haven for weeks now without a damn thing to do." he sighed. "I need something to occupy my time or I'll drive myself insane. I can only do so much reading in a day, and people are still too afraid of me to really talk. If you need a job done, I'm your man, I don't care where it is. And don't tell me to go ask Cullen, because I already have."

Leliana tapped her finger against her bottom lip, thinking. "No, I can't really think of anything that isn't being handled by somebody else at the moment. Perhaps Josie could use some assistance?"

"With what? Paperwork?" he groaned. "When's the Herald going to return. I know you know where they are."

Leliana raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. "I do. Why are you so concerned?"

"Because where ever she's going next I'm going with her. I can't stand idleness."

She smiled. "Neither can I, it's so tedious and mind numbing just sitting around doing nothing... very well. They should return from the Hinterlands with Mother Giselle some time tomorrow."

Marcus nodded. "Thank you, sister Leliana." she watched him as he turned and started to walk away, but he stopped and turned back around to face her. "Are you particularly busy at the moment? I have nothing to do right now, and I saw a couple of the men playing a game called 'chess'. I heard you knew how to play and I was wondering if you could teach me."

"Who told you that?" all she received was a smile in return. Leliana sighed and shrugged. "I have a number of reports to read and some scouts to deploy on assignments. Give me a few hours to finish up my work and I will show you how to play. Just don't expect me to go easy on you because you are new to the game." Leliana figured that she could use this time to learn more about the mysterious man, if not where he came from and the nature of his power, then perhaps she could learn more about what sort of person he was. Plus, it didn't hurt that he was rather easy on the eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it. You sure you don't want any help?"

"No, thank you for the offer though." Marcus shrugged and turned to leave her to her work. She spent the next few pouring over reports from her scouts in the Hinterlands, spies in Val Royeaux, Denerim, and the Free Marches, judging the reactions that the rulers and nobility had towards the Inquisition. There was little concern it seemed from Empress Celene, as the Civil War with her cousin was a far more pressing issue. King Alistair and Queen Anora of Ferelden didn't appear to bear any ill will towards them. Josephine reported that a small number of nobles actively pledged support to the Inquisition, thought he number was fairly small, and largely inconsequential. It seemed that only the Chantry showed any significant concern towards the Inquisition, and a few minor nobles who felt threatened by it. The Chantry would have to be dealt with. It was an unacceptable thorn in the side of order. She also briefed a scouting party on a mission she was sending them to in the swamps of the Fallow Mire to search for a quicker supply route to take through the Frostaback Mountains.

The hours passed by quickly and before she knew it, Marcus once again stood before here with a chessboard and a box of pieces. She dismissed the two agents she had been conversing with, handing hem both their written orders, before clearing her table and pulling up a couple stools for them to sit on. She placed the board on the table between them and plucked the black pieces from the box and started placing them on her side of the board. Marcus took the white pieces and mimicked her placement until the board was set.

"So... what are the game rules for chess?" Marcus asked, leaning back in his stool and stretching his legs, he foot bumping against Leliana's.

"The objective of the game is to capture your opponent's king. When the king is in danger, it is called Check. You need to either move the king out of danger, capture the piece that threatens it, or move another piece to block that pieces path. When the king is in check but can't move anywhere safe, it is checkmate and the game is over." Leliana said, gesturing to the crowned piece in the center right of her rear line of pieces. "Each player gets one move per turn, and can only move a piece in one direction per turn."

She pointed to the pieces that made up the front row. "Pawns can only move forwards one space at a time except for their first move when they can move two spaces. Also they can only capture pieces that are in front of them diagonally."

Next she pointed at the pieces on the far right and left of the board. "These are your towers. They can move forwards, backwards and to the sides as many spaces as you would like them too, or until they are blocked."

She moved to the next pair of pieces. "These are your knights. They can only move three spaces in the shape of an L, but they can jump over piece in the game."

"These are your mages." she gestured to next two pieces. "They are similar to your towers, but can only move diagonally."

Finally she reached the center two pieces. "Your queen..." she said pointing to the piece next to the king "... is like a combination of your tower and mage. She can move in any direction as many spaces as you like, or until blocked. The king is similar, but is restricted to only one space at a time."

Marcus bent forward and rubbed his chin with his hand, studying the board, processing the information that Leliana had just given him. "Alright, I think I get it."

Leliana leaned back in her seat and crossed her leg over her other knee. "The player with the white pieces traditionally goes first."

Marcus studied the board for a few more seconds before placing his hand on a pawn. He looked up at Leliana who just smiled at him. He picked up the pawn and moved it two spaces forward.

Their game was short and decisively one sided. Not that either of them were really expecting different since Leliana had played for years, and this was Marcus' first game.

"Would you like to play another game?" Leliana asked "I have time."

"Why not, my schedule isn't exactly full."

They reset the board and started again. Leliana won again, of course, but she noticed how quick of a learner he was. He studied her strategies and tactics as acutely as she studied his, though she couldn't really say that he had a specific strategy, being so new to the game. They played again and again well into the afternoon. No matter what else he was or might be, Leliana had to admit that Marcus was a graceful loser. He didn't complain or get angry, he instead focused his energy on getting better. During one of their closer matches Leliana gazed up at the Breach floating above the mountains.

"Do you think we will be able to close it?" she asked.

"Huh?" Marcus grunted, he looked up from the board and followed Leliana' gaze to the Breach. With a smirk, Leliana used the distraction to switch the positions of Marcus' knight and tower on the board. "I honestly don't know. I'm just glad it isn't spewing fireballs and demons anymore." He returned his attention to the board and Leliana saw his brow immediately furrow into a frown. "You moved some of my pieces, didn't you?" he laughed, moving the knight and tower back to where they originally were. "I didn't know I was playing with a sneaky little cheater." there wasn't any malice or anger in his voice.

Leliana shrugged "There are no rules in war. You should always keep your eyes on the board."

"Or maybe I should keep my eyes on you." he laughed again. "It's good to take some time off. Don't you think? Most people are too afraid to even look at me, let alone spend an afternoon playing chess with me. It's like I'm some sort of dangerous animal who's liable to go off on a rampage at any second." he moved a piece

"Well, you did kill a pride demon just by yelling at it." Leliana took her turn. "Some people might consider that to be a tad bit unnerving."

"Shouting, if you want to get technical." he answered. "So, why'd you decide to teach me how to play?" Marcus moved again.

"It occurred to me that we barely know each other." Leliana replied "And you are right. It is good to take some time off." Leliana moved

"I'm glad." he replied, taking his turn "Why do you think Seeker Pentaghast hates me so much?"

Leliana contemplated the question for a moment. "Cassandra is a warrior. She always has been, and she's far more skilled than most. She's earned herself quite a reputation in battle and is almost universally respected." she looked him in the eye. "Then you come waltzing in, ignore a direct command from her, and then disarm her with almost no effort in front of her men. That's not something that Cassandra could take lightly." she moved again, capturing his knight.

"I don't really appreciate having strangers demand things of me. Especially when I had been awake for an entire day, had fought through a horde of demons, and could barely stand." he sighed. "I suppose it was a tad arrogant of me, the way I acted. I'm not trying to make enemies..." Marcus captured one of Leliana's mages.

"Maybe you should apologize?" Leliana suggested. "Try to work things out between you two. We have enough problems as is without infighting." she moved.

"I'll do what I can." Marcus looked at the board, studying it, his eyes lit up, a smile crossed his face and he began to chuckle

"What's made you so giddy all of a sudden." Leliana asked, eyebrow arched.

"Checkmate."


	6. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet campout with Marcus, Evelyn, Cassandra, and Solas as they are on their way to the city of Val Royeaux. Capital of Orlais.

They'd been on the road to Val Royeaux for a little over a day now. Marcus was glad to finally get out of Haven and do something. Evelyn had decided to take him, Cassandra, and Solas along with her to meet with officials of the Chantry at Mother Giselle's behest. The Revered Mother believed that they could break the Chantry's unanimous condemnation of the Inquisition by having Evelyn address them personally, and convince them that the Inquisition was not a threat.

The journey had been a fairly quiet one as well. They trotted along the Imperial Highway on their horses that Master Dennet from the Hinterlands had provided them. None of the four of them were particularly talkative, and Marcus felt like his presence added significant tension, especially with Cassandra, whom he hadn't really talked to yet. Evelyn still wasn't sure of what to make of him, and he already knew what Cassandra made of him. Solas was fairly quiet through most of the ride.

As the sun began to drop low in the sky, they pulled off of to the side and found a small clearing to set up camp about twenty yards from the highway. Marcus and Solas got to work pitching the tents, Evelyn grabbed her bow and a quiver of arrows, and her dagger to go hunting for their dinner. While, they had packed food for the journey, the woods were teaming with rams, halla, and nugs to eat and Evelyn was a keen marksman with the bow. Plus fresh meat was always better than preserved. Marcus was a decent hunter. His thoughts drew him back to the days when his father had often taken him out on hunting trips in the forests that surrounded Chorrol. They had hunted deer, boars, rabbits, large fowl, and occasionally packs of wolves that threatened their livestock. But his father was dead, killed what felt like many lifetimes ago by a band of thugs on his way to the Imperial City for business. His mother had fallen ill shortly after and despite the work of a number of healers, she couldn't get better. She passed quietly in her sleep and Marcus and his sister had buried her alongside their father on the tall hill overlooking the family estate...

He forced these thoughts from his head and focused on driving the stakes into the ground with a hammer to keep the canvas of the tent in place. "Ow!" he gasped in pain when an unfocused blow with the hammer hits his thumb instead of the stake, he shook his hand and shamelessly sucked on his thumb until it felt better. Marcus' armor and weaponry rested in a neat pile on top of his saddlebags and pack. The horses were tethered between two nearby trees where the grazed carelessly. He gazed up at his handiwork. Marcus was certainly no stranger to pitching a tent, he'd done it far more times than he could count during his campaigns with the Legion, though he wished that the Inquisition's quartermaster had given him a slightly larger tent to sleep in. Marcus picks up all of his things and stooped low under the flap to the tent and brought his belongings inside. He unrolled his traveling bedmat and placed it on the flattest, least rocky bit of ground he can find in the tiny confine of the canvas shelter. It was almost insufferably cramped. As he was just starting to get settled, well, as close to settled as he could hope to be in such a tiny space, he heard the barely audible sound of feet on the soft dirt outside of his tent. He poked his head through the opening to see Solas standing above him.

"Umm, Hello Solas. Can I help you?" Marcus greeted awkwardly, climbing out of the tent and drawing himself to his full height.

"I think we should talk." the elf told him, no anger in his voice, but a mild, almost indiscernible hint of curiosity, and what was perhaps some concern. "About who you really are, I know you are not from Thedas."

Marcus was dumbstruck, his stomach felt like troll had ripped it out of his body, tied it into a knot, and stuffed it back in there. Thoughts raced through his head, coming and going faster than he could realize. 'how could he know?' 'Did I say something in drunk stupor that I can't remember?' 'Can he read peoples' minds?' He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when he heard a twig snap and rustling of the leaves in the foliage surrounding their small clearing. "Later." he said, just as Cassandra emerged from the brush, with a pile of dry firewood filling her arms. The Seeker eyed them both suspiciously and continued past them to the fire-pit they'd built for the night. She dumped the wood unceremoniously next to the ring of stones and went back into the woods for more without so much as a grunt. He got himself under control, and pushed the thoughts of Solas knowing something to the back of his head. Ignoring unpleasant thoughts and emotions was something he'd become exceedingly good at.

Just as the sun disappeared over the horizon, Evelyn returned with her catch. 3 nugs, and a sack full of ram's meat that she'd butchered on the spot rather than drag the entire carcass back to camp with her, though the nugs still needed to be skinned, gutted, and cleaned. While Evelyn got to work on that, Marcus stacked the wood in the fire-pit for burning and found two forked branches and a longer stick to make a spit to cook the meat on. Cassandra got to work dicing some vegetables to put into a pot to make stew while Solas was off at a nearby stream getting some water to boil and add to the stew Cassandra was preparing. While she and Marcus certainly had their differences, he had to admit that she was a surprisingly good cook. Though he'd never admit it to her face. The short haired woman finished chopping up the vegetables and tossed them into the pot and knel beside the fire with a piece of flint and a knife. She put her body between the firepit and the way the wind was blowing from and started to strike the flint with the knife, aiming the sparks into the kindling beneath the larger pieces of wood. He turned away from her and knelt down next to Evelyn who was skinning her second nug.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" Marcus asked her, He knew the immense amount of pressure the poor young woman must be feeling better than most. They were very alike in their respective... predicaments, having all of this power and responsibility forced upon them with a cruel trick of fate. He was sorry that he hadn't talked to her sooner.

"I'm managing... barely." she replied nervously, dumping the guts of the nug into a bucket. "It's.... It's just... how can somebody ever hope to be prepared for something like this? One day I'm just Evelyn Trevelyan, 3rd child to Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick, heir to nothing. Next day I'm the Herald of Andraste, blessed ' _chosen one'_ of the faithful and savior of the world. It's all bullshit. Though I do enjoy this, being out here in the woods, hunting and camping under the stars. It reminds me of home."

She sighed mournfully "Sometimes when I wake up, when I'm out here in the wilds, I feel like everything that happened was just some horrible dream, and that I'm just on a hunting trip with my father and my brothers, and everything is as it should be. Then I see this mark on my hand and I'm reminded of everything. Of the Breach, of the demons, and the Inquisition. I haven't even heard from my family since this all began. Do you know what it's like to have your entire world turned upside down? To have the fate of so much rest on your shoulders? " she looked almost on the verge of tears. "To not know if you're strong enough to handle... _THIS_."

"More than you could possibly know." Marcus muttered under his breath.

"Huh?" she said. "What did you say?"

"Oh... nothing..." Marcus replied quickly. He looked her in the eye. "Just know that you aren't alone, Evelyn. We are all here to help you, to ease some of that burden from your shoulders. We won't abandon you."

"Thank you." she said, returning her attention back to the nugs.

Cassandra was still working the flint with her knife, but for some reason the fire just refused to catch. He could see her starting to bet visibly frustrated, her strikes becoming more agitated. He started to worry that she'd cut her own finger off. Marcus strode over and knelt beside her. "Please, let me light the fire." he said, no mockery in his voice, though Cassandra didn't seem to realize that.

"No." she said bluntly, "I can do this fine on my own."

'Not from where I'm standing' Marcus thought to himself, avoiding the urge to roll his eyes. If he was going to end the hostility with this woman he didn't even know, being a snarky smartass wouldn't help.

"Cassandra, what's with all this resentment you hold towards me? You don't even know me, and it can't all be from the incident at Haven."

"Exactly. I don't know you. How can I possibly trust someone who refuses to tell me who he is? What if you plot against the Inquisition?" she stood to face him, staring him hard in the eyes, though she was several inches shorter than he was.

"I keep it a secret because I must. You can't handle the truth. Thedas can't handle the truth of who I am right now, not with the death of Divine Justinia, the Breach in the Sky, and the Mage rebellion." he shook his head. "The more people I tell, the worse it would be. The more likely it word would spread, and it could start a panic." Nobody noticed that Solas had slipped back among the tents with his bucket of water. He listened silently to the conversation.

"That was pretty cryptic." Evelyn muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Well, thank you for doing nothing to lessen my suspicion of you, Marcus. If that is even your real name." Cassandra spat back. "What if you came with us to report the Herald's movements to your master?"

"It is my real name." Marcus replied, his frustration growing, not just at Cassandra, but at the whole shitty situation. "And I am the only master of my actions. If I truly served some evil force that was arrayed the Inquisition, what could stop me from assassinating the Herald here and now?" The enormous look of discomfort Evelyn had on her face made him regret saying that immediately. He didn't need to add more stress to the poor girl's life.

"I would." Cassandra told him defiantly.

"No." Marcus shook his head. "You wouldn't."

"Okay, could you two stop talking about people assassinating me while I'm right here? Please." Evelyn asked, as she finished skinning the last nug. "Thank you."

"My apologies, Your Worship." Cassandra said curtly, she gave Marcus her typical glare. Marcus sidestepped her and knelt down next to the fire-pit, leaning in close.

"Yol" he said, barely above a whisper. A wisp of flame slipped from his mouth onto the bits of kindling and tinder at the bottom of the pit. The fire in the dry wood caught immediately, and within seconds became a roaring fire. Solas finally stepped from his position at the edge of camp with the pot of water.

"What took you so long?" Evelyn asked.

"I just stopped to enjoy the beauty of nature." Solas replied. "I spend so much time in the Fade that I can sometimes forget the wonders that exist in this world as well."

"Did you at least remember the water?"

"Is that a serious question?" Solas said, holding up the bucket for them all to see. "You insult me, dear Herald."

Solas set down the pot of water in front of the two women who non-nonchalantly dumped the diced nug and vegetables into the pot while Solas added spices and herbs to give it that extra flavor. He started to mix the stew with a large wooden spoon.

"Why don't you help with the food Marcus?" Evelyn asked.

"Trust me, you don't want that." Marcus replied with a laugh. "You'll end up with crippling stomach cramps at the best."

Despite the time he spent in High Rock with the Bretons, who were renowned across Tamriel as the greatest cooks on the continent, Marcus had never been a good cook, or even a decent cook, hell he wasn't even a passable cook. He'd certainly tried, but he usually burned or under cooked whatever he was was trying to make, so eventually the people around him told him that he should just stop. They hadn't received any arguments from him. Probably the worst thing to come out of his terrible cooking "skills" was all those long nights he spent alone in the wilderness where he had to prepare his own food. He could handle sleeping out under the stars, he could handle weathering the elements, but the shitty food was what killed him. After a long journey crossing the breadth of Skyrim, nothing made him happier than sitting down in some tavern and eating a decent meal.

While they prepared the food itself, Marcus dug into one of the packs and procured some wooden bowls and spoons. He placed them next to Evelyn before venturing into the woods to find more wood to burn. It was almost astonishing how quickly fire ate through a stockpile of wood, especially when cooking. They needed to constantly get more, and with the others preoccupied with cooking dinner, that duty fell to him. There was a new moon out tonight and it was far too dark out to see much, especially under the canopy of trees, so he didn't venture far from the camp, staying within the warm glow of the fire. He could hear them talking as he gathered what wood he could find along the edges of the clearing. In the darkness crickets chirped, owls hooted, and in the distance he could hear a wolf howl, long and mournful.

"How many days ride is it from Haven to Val Royeaux? Evelyn asked Cassandra.

"About 3 weeks." Cassandra replied. "If we aren't delayed by weather, or bandits, or the war, so on."

"Oh good, only two weeks, six days, and one night to go." the rogue replied sarcastically. "And then another three weeks back. Perhaps you could share some stories about... whatever it is that you've done... you know... to pass the time."

"I'm sure our Seeker has many interesting tales." Solas suggested.

"I'm more interested in what Marcus can tell us." Cassandra said, lowering her voice, knowing that Marcus couldn't hear her. "What did you make of that whole speech he gave before? 'can't handle the truth'? What is he hiding? What are his motivations? He just strolls into Haven the day before the Conclave explodes, volunteers immediately to help, and gives his service to the Inquisition just like that?" Unknown to the Seeker, Marcus returned with another armful of wood for the fire, he'd heard his name spoken and had quietly strolled up to Cassandra, standing behind her as she spoke.

"Maybe it's because I'm just such a nice person, Seeker Pentaghast." Marcus said from behind her, barely containing his laughter. He could practically hear her seething with embarrassment. "Do you know what isn't nice, Seeker? Talking about a person when you think they can't hear you." now he could hear Evelyn's muffled giggling, covering her mouth with her hand to try to contain it.

He dropped the wood next to the fire and sat with the others, patiently waiting for the stew to cook. He stood up and moved towards the spit, kneeling to spin the pieces of ram meat on the spit to be eaten along with the stew. It probably wasn't a good idea to let him touch any of the food while it was still being prepared, but everyone else was busy at the moment. Solas withdrew a loaf of hard bread from the pack and cut it in half, he stuffed one half back into the pack and gave the other to Cassandra who cut it into four slices, one for each of them. When the stew was finished Evelyn ladled it out into four bowls and handed one to each of them. Marcus took a piece of ram's meat off of the spit and cut it open to see if it was cooked. Much to his surprise, he hadn't burned it. It was a tad overcooked, but still edible.

Marcus pulled a camp stool closer to the fire and sat down with his bowl, he dipped his slice of bread into the stew and took a bit out of it before speaking. "So, does anybody have a good story to tell?"

"Yeah." Evelyn chimed in. "Cassandra, tell us about the time where you saved the Divine from a horde of dragons."

"Ugh." she grunted, in annoyance. "Just when I thought that somebody hadn't heard about that."

"I've also heard of your exploits at the Grand Cathedral, and I would love to here about them in more detail." Solas said.

"Fine." she grunted. "And it wasn't a horde of dragons, there was only four."

"Only four she says." Evelyn laughed.

"It was a blood-mage conspiracy to kill the Divine at the Ten Year Gathering. I didn't defeat them on my own either, I had help from a number of circle mages."

"You're terrible at telling stories." Evelyn said. "We should have brought Varric."

"Alright, why don't you tell a story then." Cassandra retorted, crossing her arms.

"Give me a second." Evelyn replied, thinking. "Ooh, I've got a good one. One time, maybe three years ago, my two older brothers and I were out hunting in the woods outside of Ostwick, we were tracking this bear for a few days but we couldn't find the damn thing. So, on the third night we set up camp but we were stupid and didn't put our food up in a tree. And well, you guys know how smart bears are right? So, the next morning we wake up and we see the damn bear stumbling around our camp, surrounded by food wrappings and opened mead bottles. Somehow, it got the bottle open, drank all of our mead, got drunk right there!" she laughed "I was shocked that it hadn't woken us up, and we were pretty damn lucky that it was more interested in our food than in us. None of us had the heart to kill it."

"I'd say you were making up a load of bullshit, but compared to a massive hole in the sky that rains fire and demons, a drunk bear is far more believable." Marcus said.

After they were finished eating, Cassandra and Evelyn decided to turn in for the night. Marcus told them that he would take the first watch and would wake one of them up in a few hours to take over. He sat on his stool, staring into the glowing embers of the dying fire. He waited a few minutes before motioning for Solas to follow him so they could talk. They walked to the edge of the road, far enough away from the camp to be out of earshot of the others, but close enough to see anything that might be happening there. He was, after all, on watch.

* * *

"Alright Solas, say what you need to say." he said.

"All magic in Thedas stems from one source. The Fade. Only a small number of individuals in Thedas, relative to the rest of the population, are capable of harnessing and using the magical energies from the Fade, and you certainly possess extraordinary magical abilities. Yet I sense no connection to the Fade within you. Nor are you tranquil, obviously. Wherever you draw your power from, it is not from there."

"I'm assuming you haven't told anybody else this?" he barely knew the elf, but he felt like he could trust him, he wasn't fearful like the others, he seemed like he might understand, he might even be able to help him discover why he was brought to Thedas.

"No, I thought I'd learn the truth from you first, if I could."

"Very well, my power comes from my blood, my soul, to be more specific." he studied the look Solas gave him, trying to guess what his reaction will be. "And no, I'm not talking about blood magic as you would imagine it."

"Go on."

"You were right earlier, when you told me I'm not from Thedas. I'm from a world called Nirn. More specifically, the continent of Tamriel. I was stupid. I used an artifact of enormous magical power to gain knowledge that I believed could save the continent from war. Instead it sent me here, and I don't even know how."

"Fascinating." Solas said, genuinely intrigued. "Please tell me more of where you are from, this "Tamriel."

"Alright, I hope you're comfortable because this is going to be a very long story. Similar to Thedas there are men and elves, though Tamrielic elves are much, much different from Theodocian elves. There are four different races of men, three different elven races, and two beast races. The continent is split into nine different provinces, each is the homeland to one of the nine sentient races that inhabit the continent. The center province, Cyrodiil is where I am from originally. The other provinces surround it. The entire continent used to be united in a single Empire based in Cyrodiil, but has fractured over the past few centuries. The Empire still remains, though it has lost all but three of the original nine provinces."

"You said that elves are different in Tamriel than in Thedas, how so?"

"Well, for one they aren't all roaming nomads or pariahs living in the slums of human cities. The three different races of elves are the High Elves, or Altmer, they are the most magically gifted race in all of Tamriel, and they rule the Aldmeri Dominon, the most powerful political entity on the continent. And frankly, they're assholes. The Wood Elves, or Bosmer, I would most closely associate with the Dalish elves of Thedas, though there are still many differences. Lastly, there are the Dark Elves, or Dunmer, they... they've had a rough history. Their homeland was almost completely annihilated by a massive volcanic eruption."

"What can you tell me about your power? About magic?"

"Everybody has a certain level of magical ability, though some are more talented than others, and few actually develop their abilities in the craft. My magic is different than the others. It's based off of words of power spoken in the tongue of Tamrielic dragons."

"The dragons of Tamriel can speak?" Solas asked.

"Yes, they are fully sentient, and immortal. The physical embodiments of time, knowledge, and power." he paused. "And I was born to kill them."

"Why?"

"Because despite their intelligence and majesty, dragons are driven by an insatiable lust for power and domination over all else." Marcus told him. "They were prideful, and cruel to those races they saw as less than themselves, which was everybody else. Eventually, these races rose up against them and killed most of them off after learning their language and how to use their power against them. Over the centuries they were eventually hunted into extinction."

"Why were you born to kill them if they were already wiped out?"

"Because their god returned to bring about the end of the world. He raised the dragons from the dead. I was sent by prophecy to defeat him, which I did."

"Can you explain the nature of your power, their power?" Solas asked him.

"I'll tell you what I can. It's called the Thu'um, or _Storm-Voice_ in the tongue of dragons. When they speak, their words become reality. Anybody can learn to master the Thu'um, though for anybody without the soul of a dragons, it takes years to master even a single word. To dragons, the Thu'um is an extension of their very being. They learn it as naturally as one learns to breath. When a dragon kills another it steals its soul and takes the other's knowledge and power into itself. I was born with the soul of a dragon. While I am a mortal, I can learn the Thu'um as dragons, do, though only through stealing their knowledge by killing them."

"How many dragons have you killed?"

"Countless dozens." Marcus replied.

"I... I don't really know what to say. I've never heard of any sort of magic being able to bring somebody to another world. The only time somebody has even physically entered the Fade was when the Tevinter Magisters corrupted the Black City." he looked at him apologetically. "I'm truly sorry Marcus. It's hard to lose everything you've ever known and be thrust into something entirely alien."

"Not as sorry as I am." Marcus muttered as a reply. "You know Evelyn and Cassandra better than I do, do you think I should tell them as well?"

"Not yet, though perhaps in time." Solas told him "We'll discuss this later."

They strode back to camp where Solas bade him good night and crawled into his tent to go to sleep. Marcus was still on watch for a few hours so he laid down on his back and stared up into the sky, trying to find all the constellations he could see through the trees. He contemplated telling everybody the truth. Solas had told him not to. Told him to wait until they discussed it further. He thought about what he had told Solas, and what Solas would do with this information. These thoughts stayed with him as he woke Evelyn for the next watch, as he stooped through the small entrance flap to his tent, as he lay on his bedroll in the cramped, uncomfortable space of the tent, and as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	7. Aiding those in Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit a writing block and didn't really like where I was going with the story, so I rewrote most of this chapter.

Val Royeaux had been an interesting experience. After three weeks of travel, they had arrived in the city. At first it was astonishing to Marcus. Only the Imperial City could compare in sheer grandeur and scale. But the sense of awe quickly faded when the came upon a large crowd gathered around a Chantry Mother who was preaching against the Inquisition, only to be punched in the face and knocked unconscious by a Templar. Lucius, the Lord Seeker, who had been conveniently absent from the Conclave, he then declared that the Templar order no longer served the Chantry and was abandoning Val Royeaux. When Cassandra approached him with an offer of alliance, he rebuffed them harshly, declaring the Inquisition to be 'less than nothing' before storming off to who knows where. As the party of four prepared to leave, they were approached by Grand Enchanter Fiona, also absent from the Conclave, with her own offer of alliance between the the rebel mages holed up in Redcliffe in the Ferelden Hinterlands and the Inquisition, she must have been insane to just waltz into Val Royeaux. They then had to go running around the city on a scavenger hunt until they met a loudmouthed elf girl name Sera who wanted to join up, and then they killed some people. And after THAT a messenger found them and handed Evelyn an invitation to a party from Court Enchanter Vivienne de Fer, who offered her services to the Inquisition in exchange for... something. Most likely power and influence. It was what Marcus would describe as an enormous cluster fuck.

"Well, that was... bizarre." Solas said as they passed back through the gates to the city on their horses. Enchanter Vivienne had to make preparations for the trip, and had business to settle before she made the voyage to Haven. Sera... well, Marcus wasn't really sure what was going on with Sera.

"I rather enjoyed Enchanter Vivienne's party." Evelyn said. "Some asshole Marquis I don't even know challenged me to a duel."

"You're joking. What happened?" Marcus asked

"Vivienne froze him with some spell, and then offered to kill him for me." she laughed. "I told her that would be unnecessary. I think the dumb bastard pissed himself."

Marcus laughed. "I have no doubt. From what little I've heard about her, Lady Vivenne seems to be a pretty terrifying woman."

"That she is, but it's not like you're some soft little fennec yourself. I'll still remember that pride demon in the Temple."

"Hmph" Marcus said. "What did you think of Sera?" he asked, changing the subject.

"She seems enthusiastic." Solas replied. "Though, somewhat... absent minded."

"No kidding, I couldn't understand half of what she was trying to say." Evelyn replied.

"Seeker Pentaghast, what do you think of our latest recruits?" Marcus said, looking over at Cassandra, who had her face buried in a map as she rode.

"Huh...?" she asked, not looking up from the map.

"You should probably pay attention to where you are going." Marcus replied "I asked what you think of of Vivienne and Sera.

"Oh umm. I'm sure that Madame de Fer will be an excellent addition to the Inquisition. Sera, I don't know. She doesn't seem to take anything seriously, which could be problematic."

"So you don't think I should have allowed her to join?"

"I won't be so quick to pass judgment on her, at least until we see how she behaves in the field."

"Oh, like you 'didn't' pass judgment on me?" Marcus laughed.

"Don't start with me." Cassandra replied, "Sera is just an elf with a bow. You, you are far more dangerous than that."

"Yes, yes. I've heard you say this a dozen times already." Marcus replied rolling his eyes. "You have done an excellent job of making abundantly clear just how dangerous I am. Thank you for telling me."

"Are you two ever going to stop bickering about this shit?" Evelyn asked "It's the same fucking thing every day and you're giving me a headache!"

"Again, my apologies, Your Worship." Cassandra said.

"Yeah, sorry." Marcus said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

"So, what's with the map?" Evelyn asked Cassandra. "We already know how to get back."

"I was looking for an alternate route back to Haven. Leliana's scouts report rampant banditry and looting by deserters from both sides and they've been spreading out from the Exalted Plains where the fighting has been heaviest. We were lucky we didn't run into any on our way to the city."

"Afraid of a few bandits Seeker?" Marcus chided.

"No." She said hastily "But they aren't just 'a few bandits'. They call themselves the Freemen of the Dales. They're organized, well trained, well equipped, and utterly without morals. They have burned villages, raped, murdered, and pillaged indiscriminately."

"We'd be doing Orlais a favor by exterminating any of these vermin we come across," Marcus said, his face darkening, losing any trace of his usual good humor. " and finding another route will take time. I say we continue on our original path."

"It isn't our duty to fight Orlais' battles for it." Cassandra retorted. "Besides, do you have no concern for the Herald's safety?"

"I do have a name you know." Evelyn said. "And don't I have a say in this?"

"I though the Inquisition was formed to restore order to Thedas." Marcus replied "Orlais is part of Thedas the last time I checked, besides, you didn't seem particularly bothered her Worship being in the thick of the fighting in the Hinterlands."

"I... you make a valid point." Cassandra replied, much to the shock of everyone present, including herself. "And yes, Evelyn, of course you have a say in our course of action."

"I'm not afraid of bandits." she said firmly. "What do you think Solas?"

"I'll follow your lead, Herald." he replied, curtly.

They traveled down the road from Val Royeaux towards the Frostback Mountains and Haven for about a week without incident. During that time it was relatively quiet. They met few travelers on the road, the woods teamed with game for hunting, but then things began to change the closer they got to the Exalted Plains. There were no longer any travelers, and they came across a number of abandoned homes, some of them burnt out ruins. Signs of looting were everywhere.

"You were right about the Freemen, Cassandra." Evelyn told her as they passed by a farmhouse and barn, little more than charred wood and ash.

"It's too late to turn back now, we need to push on through. I suggest that two of us keep watch at night from now on." Solas said, eyes locked on the ruined farm.

"I agree." Marcus said, he kept his head on a swivel, surveying the fields on one side of the road, and the treeline on the other. Everything reminded him of the Stormcloak Rebellion. With the Jarls and soldiers so focused on fighting each other, bandits were able to run rampant. There was nobody left to stop them as they plundered, and burned, and murdered their way across a country already suffering from a war that tore families apart and had cost so many lives. He had no tolerance for brigands, not there and not here.

"Why hasn't the Orlesian army done something about them?" Evelyn asked "Surely they wouldn't just pretend like this isn't happening!"

"Grand Duke Gaspard and Empress Celene's petty war is tearing this land apart. They focus solely on outplaying each other in their 'Game' and Orlais suffers for it." Solas remarked sadly.

"It's a full moon tonight." Cassandra remarked. "If we find a good place to camp, somewhere high up, we would have an excellent view to spot any unfriendly visitors trying to catch us off guard."

After a few more miles of riding down the road, the group found a ridge line with excellent sight lines that let them observe the surrounding countryside for miles in every direction, but that also meant that anybody could see their fire from miles in every direction as well. Despite this, and the fact that it was only late afternoon, they decided to make camp for the night. After a dinner of roasted halla, Solas and Cassandra retired into their tents for the night, leaving Marcus and Evelyn on first watch. Evelyn sat near the fire, mending a number of broken arrows whistling an old Free Marches folk tune casually. Off in the distance, some miles away she could see the lights of a small village shining in the nights. She looked up into the night sky, the full moon shined brilliantly. 

Evelyn sat on a tree stump diligently mending several arrows that she had broken during a hunt. Lay in the grass on the other side of the fire, gazing up at the night sky counting the stars in his boredom. A shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a brilliant trail of silver in its wake, followed by another, and another. 

"Anything interesting up there?" Evelyn asked, looking up at him from her work.

"Meteor shower." he replied, point up at them. She followed his gaze, staring up at the sky as the shooting stars burned through the atmosphere brilliantly. For a time, they stayed like this in silence, enjoying one of the many beautiful natural phenomena of nature. 

"Do you think things will go back to the way they were before? When... _if, we close the Breach?_ " Evelyn inquired, breaking the blissful silence. "They way they were before the Breach? Before the Mage-Templar war? Before I became the  _Herald of Andraste?"_  She ended the last question with a sour note, showing her distaste for the title she had unwittingly earned.

"I doubt it." Marcus replied "The world doesn't just recover from something like this, people can't just pretend that these things didn't happen, and whether these changes are for good or ill, they have been made, and there's no going back."

"Wow, thanks for the reassurance." she replied sarcastically. 

"Would you prefer if I just lied to you?" 

"Yes." 

"Then I was the wrong person to ask." he sighed "Don't worry too much. You've got a good head on your shoulders, capable advisers, and a loyal army at your back."

"But I never asked to be their savior." she said "I never wanted any of this. I... I mean, I love helping people. I want to make a difference, but I hate the worship, the reverence, it's suffocating."

"I'm sorry." he said, genuinely pitying the girl, feeling a strange bond of kinship with her through their shared ordeals. "But the simple truth in life is that the unexpected will be forced upon you. Even though you don't like it, this is who you are now. Whether the decision was made intentionally by the Maker, or by some freak accident. What matters are the choices that you make when faced with these problems." 

She sat there in silence, pondering what he had said to her as she returned to her work on the arrows. After a time, Marcus broke the silence. "I think it's time for a shift change. How about you go get some sleep?"

"No, I'm not really tired. You go ahead." she replied. Marcus shrugged and pushed himself to his feet. He strolled over to the Seeker's tent, he stopped outside the entrance flap and softly called her name so as to not wake Solas who was sleeping in the next tent over. When he got no response, he called her name again. From inside her tent he heard mumbling and a soft cry that sounded like fear.

"No! Not Anthony, please!" she cried. He called her name again, this time more loudly, to try to wake her from her nightmare and this time it worked. He heard a gasp and some rustling from inside the tent, within moments, Cassandra poked her head outside the tent. "What do you want?" she demanded. 

"Change of the watch" he replied "It's your turn." she disappeared back inside the tent and a few moments later came back out, dressed and with her sword belt looped around her waist. She pushed past Marcus and went over to the fire, sitting down across from Evelyn, who was still mending the arrows. Marcus turned and went back to his own undersized tent and climbed in, stripping off his traveling clothes, unlooping his belt and climbing beneath the covers. After a while he drifted off the sleep

He woke from his dreams to the smell of food cooking. After pulling on a shirt, he poked his head out of the tent flap and looked about the camp. The horses stood off to the side, tethered to a tree and casually chewing up the grass. Evelyn and Solas sat beside the fire cooking breakfast for the group. He strolled over to the campfire and Evelyn handed him a bowl with food. It was just some plain bland oatmeal, which he'd never really liked, but he was absolutely famished.

"Thanks." he said before greedily digging into the sloppy mess.

"So... sleep well?" she asked, watching him inhale his food.

"Can' shay dat I did." he replied, with his mouth full. It didn't really bother him much, despite all of the etiquette training his mother had forced him through as a kid. He spent much of his time in the wilderness where none of that mattered and after a month of traveling with these people, they were familiar enough with each other to not care either. "Not that I ever do anymore."

"Yeah, I have the same problem some nights too."

"You haven't been up all night, have you?" Marcus asked Evelyn

"Oh, no. I went to sleep a few hours after you did and woke up Solas." she replied, dipping her own spoon into her bowl. "He's been up since then and I've been up for a couple hours to let Cass get some sleep."

"You know she hates being called Cass."

"You're damned right I do." an irate Seeker said, standing at the mouth of her tent.

After the Seeker got some food, they four of them put out the cook fire and packed up the tents. They all donned their armor and weapons and set off. No point in wasting daylight, especially with a few more weeks of travel left to go. As they rode down the road in the direction of the village he had seen the night before far off in the distance. Marcus pulled his horse up next to Cassandra's.

"So, Lady Seeker. I have a question to ask you."

"What is it?" she asked impatiently, giving him her typical annoyed glare every time she saw him.

"Who's Anthony?"

Her look of annoyance shifted to one of shock and then of anger faster than Marcus thought a person's facial muscles could move. "How do you know that name?!" she demanded, through gritted teeth.

"You were dreaming last night and I heard you..." he said.

"Never EVER speak that name to me again!" she growled, her eyes burning with rage

"I'm sorry I asked." Marcus said defensively, before quickly riding ahead.

They rode in complete silence after that. Solas and Evelyn had heard the brief exchange, and they all steered clear of the Seeker. After maybe an hour of riding, a stranger came running up to the party, he was maybe 60 years old and looked unarmed, but they couldn't take any chances with Evelyn present. Marcus rode ahead of the others, placing himself between the stranger and the others. His hand fell to his sword hilt.

"Hold there, friend." he said, firmly. "We're on official Inquisition business. What do you want."

"Inquisition? Oh thank the Maker!" he fell to his knees. "Please, my village needs your help. A fade rift has opened in our fields and demons have killed most of our livestock, some of our people tried to fight them off but they were massacred. Please, we're no warriors."

Solas spoke up, but quietly so the man couldn't hear. "It could be a trap. But if he is telling the truth, we can't just let them die."

"While I believe him, it is always better to be safe than sorry." Marcus said. "Solas, you and I will go with the man, see if his story checks out. If not, we should be more than capable of handling a few bandits." the others nodded. "Once I've assessed the situation I'll come back to get you to seal the rift."

"How far is your village?" Evelyn asked.

"'Bout a quarter mile down the road. I've been waiting here all day, hoping some adventurers like you would come along." he paused "Please, we'll pay you for your help."

"Alright, Solas and I will come with you." Marcus said, gesturing to the elf. "If this turns out to be an ambush, I promise that you'll live just long enough to regret it."

"Thank you! Thank you so much." the man said, though he gave Solas an subtle, uneasy look.

Marcus and Solas dismounted and followed the man down the short stretch of road leading to the village, the entire way there, the poor farmer heaped praise on them and the Inquisition, telling them all about the good things that he had never heard about them, and how the village would be eternally grateful for helping them. When they finally reached the town, if you could call it that, they found the place deserted. All it was was just a small scattering of houses, a tiny chapel for worship, and a well in the middle. All of the doors and windows were shut tightly.

"Where is everybody?" Solas asked the man, whose name was Brenn.

"Hidin'." he replied "The rift opened maybe two days ago. We figured that if the Demons don't know we're here, they won't bother us."

"Where is it?" Marcus asked

"Over here." Brenn led them behind the small chapel and pointed across grazing pasture filled with dead cattle and a few human corpses, in the distance he could see the unmistakable green glow of a fade rift hovering maybe ten feet above the ground, there were a number of demons milling about .

"Alright, Solas, stay here with Brenn, make sure the demons don't kill anybody else. I'll be back shortly with the Herald and Cassandra." the elf nodded and grabbed the staff from his back.

"Wuld Nah Kest!" Marcus shouted, with a sharp crack like a whip, he shot down the road faster than the wind. He crossed the quarter of a mile and reached the women and their horses in seconds.

"He was telling the truth, there's a rift."

"Let's get moving then." Evelyn said,

He led them and the horses to the village where Brenn and Solas were still waiting for him. Bren stared at him in astonishment.

"What was that!" he gaped "Are you a mage like the kni..." he coughed "Like your elf friend here?" Solas ignored the man.

"Sort of." Marcus replied, not explaining any further, he grabbed his shield and Otar from his pack and fastened the mask to his face. "Come on, let's deal with this rift immediately."

The four of them moved off across the wide expanse of the field, gingerly stepping round dead cattle. There was no cover, no terrain to take advantage of, to use to turn the battle in their favor, this would be a straight brawl between them and the demons, nothing he hadn't done before. Evelyn and Solas kept back behind the warriors, using them as protection and to keep the demons distracted from the less armored members of the party. As they got closer, the demons took notice of their presence and bull charged them. A greater shade slammed into Cassandra's shield, the screech of claws on metal assaulted Marcus' ears. The experienced warrior shifted her body around, keeping her shield between herself and the demon before finding an opening and driving her sword up through the monster's abdomen, killing it.

Evelyn fired arrow after arrow into the crowd of demons, managing to score a number of hits on weakspots, killing them where they stood. Solas created a magical barrier around each of the party, giving them even more protection from harm, before launching fireballs at the nearest demon.

"Su Grah Dun!" Marcus shouted, the Thu'um doubled his speed and reflexes. He cut a path through shades and wraiths like they were nothing but paper, moving far too quickly for them to react. Before they even knew it, all of the demons in the field were dead, but it wasn't over yet. Fade rifts always spewed out at least two waves of demons, sometimes even three.

The rift flared and a second wave of demons appeared, this time with two of those damned terror demons that Marcus hated so much. One of them ignored the two warriors completely and ripped a tear in the ground. Evelyn looked down just as the demon slammed up through the ground knocking her back 8 feet through the air and ripping her bow from her grasp. She landed hard on her leg and immediately felt sharp pain shoot up her thigh. She gasped and cried out, as the Terror loomed over her ready to finish her off. Solas heard her cry and turned just in time to freeze the demon in a block of ice. She scrambled backwards away from it, eyes frantically searching the ground for her bow as Solas bombarded the creature with magic, keeping its attention on him.

She finally found her bow and quickly nocked and drew an arrow before putting it into the back of the Terror's head. The damned thing finally died. Marcus and Cassandra finally cleared the last of the demons and no more came from the rift.

"Are you alright?" Solas said, offering Evelyn a hand, she grasped it and he pulled her to her feet, but quickly had to grab her to keep her from falling as her left leg collapsed under her, she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out in pain.

"No, I think my leg's broken... or at least badly sprained." she told the elf. He wrapped an arm around her waist as she grabbed his shoulder for support and the two of them hobbled over to the rift with Marcus and Cassandra watching them. When she got within 20 feet of it, she extended her marked hand and sealed it with a brilliant flash of green light.

"How's the leg?" Marcus asked, removing his mask.

"Not good. I don't think I can walk on it."

He offered his shoulder to her and he and Solas helped their wounded comrade return to the village. Brenn was still waiting for them where they had left him. "The rift is closed for good then?" he asked

"It should be." Evelyn said, keeping her voice steady in spite of the pain. "The demons won't be bothering you people any more."

"Thank you Herald! Thank you!" Brenn said, she took a hand from around Solas' shoulder and he grasped it. "Now we can bury our dead and move on. We owe the Inquisition everything." People started to come out of their houses, each of them thanking the party of four individually. Marcus noticed that there were no young men among them, in fact, there were very few men at all. Most had likely been conscripted into Celene and Gaspard's Civil War. All that remained were women, children, and the elderly. Most of the human bodies he had seen in the field around the rift had been old men, and a few younger women. The poor fools never should have tried their luck against a demon.

The villagers insisted that they stay the night, and join them for a celebration feast, but they politely refused. The day was still young and they had a lot of riding to do, even with her foot injury, Evelyn agreed that they should get going. The people they had saved at least asked them to accept gifts of food, and coin. They took the food gratefully, but refused the coin, these people were impoverished enough as it was, it would be wrong of them to take any of their money. They said their farewells to the villagers and started to set off back down the road.

A young boy who couldn't have been older than ten ran up to them as they were leaving. "Can I come with you? I want to be a soldier, just like my Pa! I want to travel the world and help people like you do!"

"I don't think your parents would approve of you running off at such a young age." Evelyn said with a slight smile.

"I don't have any parents anymore." the boy said looking down to hide the tears welling in his eyes. "My mother died when I was born, and my pa was killed in the war. It's just me and my older sister now."

"What's your name, son?" Marcus said, hopping down from his horse.

"Michel." he said, looking up and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Well, Michel, the Inquisition needs you to stay here to protect your sister and your home." Marcus told him, kneeling to look him in the eye from his level. "It's what your mother and father would want from you, they would be proud to have raised such a brave son." the boy nodded, and ran back to join his sister and the other villagers waiting. He waved farewell to the boy before turning back to his companions and climbing back onto his horse.

They rode on for a while, the road taking them steadily uphill.

"They're lucky we happened to come along to help them." Evelyn said. "It was stupid of them to try to fight those demons themselves."

"It was, none of them are warriors, or those who were are too old to fight anything anymore." Cassandra said.

"Do you think we should have taken that boy with us? I mean, what future does he have there? I wouldn't expect him to do any fighting, obviously, but he could clean, or squire, or something like that."

"No, he belongs with the rest of his family." Cassandra said.

After maybe an hour, they finally crested the gently sloping hill, giving them an excellent view of the valley below. There were no other settlements in sight, only rolling fields and forests as far as the eye could see. They paused to admire the view when Solas' voice caught their attention. "That's quite a view." Marcus remarked with a whistle.

"Seeker, look." they all looked back at the elven mage, it was obvious what he was pointing at. Black smoke poured hundreds of feet into the sky and it hit them all immediately.

The farm village was burning.


	8. No Survivors

It was a slaughter, just another of many that Marcus had seen in his life. During the Stormcloak rebellion, he had seen countless villages looted and razed, and their people slaughtered by both Stormcloaks and Legionnaires alike. Butchered simply because their Jarl had chosen the wrong side. 

For all of their talk of freedom, the Stormcloaks weren't particularly fond of Nords who had chosen to stay true and loyal to the Empire that had been founded by one of their own. He'd burned his share of towns and villages as well. It was a strategy ordered by General Tullius to sow chaos and fear in the holds that supported Ulfric. He believed that once the people of these holds realized that the Stormcloaks couldn't protect them, they'd flock back to the Empire. Marcus had disagreed, believing that it would simply reaffirm their beliefs that the Empire was corrupt, incompetent, and cruel, a puppet of the Thalmor. It was just another cause for bad blood between the two men. He and Tullius had been at odds since the peace summit in High Hrothgar. 

Marcus hadn't chosen a side then. His focus had been on killing Alduin and ending the Dragon Crisis. He had tried to be as fair as he could in the negotiations, listening to both side's demands and requests, doing what he could to create a temporary peace at least, so that Balgruuf would allow him to use Dragonsreach to trap Odahviing. Naturally, the negotiations deteriorated into petty bickering and attempts to grab land and an advantage over the opposition. Ulfric demanded Markarth, and Tullius demanded Riften, each berated the other for the atrocities committed by men at war and Ulfric even threatened to walk out of the meeting when Marcus told him that he was demanding too much. Attempts by Marcus, Greybeard Arngeir, and Esbern, the Grandmaster of the newly reformed Blades had done little to quiet the tempers of these bitter enemies, and regrettably, Marcus had lost his own. He threatened to end the war right then and there himself if they didn't put their selfish demands aside and get their heads out of their asses to see the real threat. 

Even after Marcus had sworn the oath and joined the Legion there had been many arguments between him and the General. Despite the other man's significantly higher rank, Marcus was unafraid to speak his mind and voice his dislike of some of the General's methods. Had he been anybody else, it is likely that he would have been court-martialed and executed for insubordination, or at the very least, dishonorably discharged from the Legion. In fact, Marcus had been promoted and demoted for his actions and words numerous times during the war for his actions and his words. But both men knew how vital Marcus was to the Legion's war efforts. He had singlehandedly broken the stalemate and had ended the war in a few months with swift and efficient brutality on the battlefield. He had eventually attained the rank of Legatus as the war drew to a close and the time to assault Windhelm was approaching. With this promotion, he was subordinate only to the General himself, and Legate Rikke, Tullius' second in command. 

Much of the animosity between these two strongly willed men was relieved when the battle was over. Marcus had broken the Great Gate of Windhelm personally and he had shouted Ulfric down in his own throne room, much like how Ulfric had killed Torygg and started the war. With Ulfric dead, most of the Stormcloaks returned to their homes, though many of the dead Jarl's staunchest supporters remained, harassing Imperial forces from hidden camps in the wilderness. Tullius had sent him to track down and destroy these last pockets of resistance, which he did quickly.

After the last of the Stormcloaks had been crushed the General had given Marcus leave to travel and do what he did, though he still officially remained a member of the Legion. Marcus found time to visit Solitude every now and again, and he would visit the Tullius in Castle Dour. They became good friends, despite their differences, and would often talk about the war, family, how efforts to restore order and rebuild Skyrim were going, that sort talk. During one visit, when there were no prying ears that might hear what he had to say, the General had voiced a concern that Marcus shared. They spoke of the seemingly inevitable second Great War with the Aldmeri Dominion. This conversation was what led Marcus to consult the Elder Scroll in the Ancestor Grove in hopes of catching a glimpse of the future. His use of that tool which he understood nothing of was what brought him to Thedas, though he does not know how or why.

* * *

Dead bodies littered the ground, already carrion birds picked over the fresh remains of the slain. Every building in the small building had been set alight. The stench of blood and death was pungent, even over that of burning wood and smoke. The horses shied away from the corpses, baying and whinnying nervously, pawing at the ground with their hooves. The four dismounted and spread out across the village hoping to find any survivors, but that hope was dim. 

Evelyn looked at the horrific scene, tears beginning to well in her eyes, as she limped forward supported by Solas. "What sort of animals could do this to unarmed people?" 

Everybody had been gathered up in the small yard area between the houses and the road, the bodies were tightly grouped and piled on top of each other, though there were a few outliers likely people who tried to run but didn't get far. Other than those who attempted to flee the carnage, there were few signs of resistance, there weren't any signs indicating a fight, or even a scuffle. Despite this, nobody had been spared it seemed. They found bodies of old men, women, and even the children. One body leaned was leaned up against the town well, the haft of a six foot long spear protruding from his gut. It was Brenn. 

Marcus approached the old man. He heard a low, shallow breath, barely even a wheeze. The poor bastard was still alive. He seemed to hear Marcus' footsteps and looked up at him.

"We have a live one over here!" Marcus called out to the others "It's Brenn." Cassandra got there first, followed by Solas and Evelyn.

"Please.... water..." blood trickled from his mouth and nose down his chin, staining the raggedy brown shift he wore and mixing with the red stain forming around the spear wound. The man had no chance of surviving, not even the finest healer in Thedas could have saved him. The Seeker knelt down and pressed a leather canteen to the dying man's lips. He drank greedily and long, draining the half full container completely dry.

"Who did this?" Marcus asked, though he had a strong suspicion already. 

"Those *cough* bastards that call themselves the Freemen." Brenn replied "Came here... soon after you left... looking for food, *cough cough* and gold. We gave them what... they wanted, but they decided... *cough* they wanted our women too. The boy *cough* Michel... got a knife somehow. Stabbed one of the fuckers... in the eye when he grabbed his sister... everything went to shit... they wasn't interested the women... anymore... they just *cough* killed everyone." 

"How many were there?" Marcus asked 

"Maybe... two dozen. Probably more *cough cough*" he didn't have much time left. 

"Can you tell me which way they went?" The old man pointed across the road opposite of the ruined village. A small dirt path led into the forest. They all stayed by the man's side, doing what little they could to ease his passing, within minutes he was gone. Marcus closed the dead man's eyes then stood and walked over to his horse without a word. He grabbed Otar, and strapped it to his face before making for the dirt path the Freemen had come from.

"Where are you going?" Cassandra demanded.

"I am going to find the animals who did this and I am going to put them down." 

"You? Alone against more than two dozen armed men?" Evelyn asked "Are you insane?" 

"Probably." Marcus replied. "Stay here, I won't be too long" Without another word he set off down the pathway. He walked alone for what guessed to be a few miles, wallowing in his own cold rage. He didn't truly know anybody from that village, but they had shown kindness and generosity to them, something that seemed so rare in these times. All they had wanted to do was live in peace and tend their fields and livestock, but these bandits had destroyed everything. Entire families were wiped out for nothing but a little bit of food and coin. It was a disgusting and callous waste of life. 

The trail finally emptied out into a large clearing where the bandits had made their camp. He stood at the edge of the treeline, studying the camp. From what he could tell, they had been there for a while. There were a number of canvas tents surrounded by a low palisade wall and a wooden gate. A few bow armed guards were on lookout, but from what he could see, they didn't look particularly attentive. A few things surprised him about this particular group. The first was how far away they were from the Dales where the group got their name from. Were they purposely expanding into more of Orlais or had this group simply separated from the main body of deserters? The other was that they hadn't attacked the village much earlier. It looked like they had been here for a few weeks at least, and the farming village was by no means far away, or difficult to find. An uncomfortable thought crossed his mind. The fade rift might have been the only thing keeping them away. 

He pushed those thoughts from his mind and instead focused on the task at hand. Focusing on the nearest archer, he pulled his crossbow from his back and loaded an explosive firebolt. He took aim, aiming above the man's head to compensate for drop and leading the slow moving target slightly. He squeezed the trigger mechanism of the crossbow and with a kick, the bolt shot forth and in a split second found its mark in the man's chest. He exploded in a stunning flash of orange, red and yellow flame. The effect was immediate. Shouts of confusion, anger, and fear rose up from the encampment. He quickly loaded another bolt and fired it into the second archer with the same effect. Armed men came pouring through the gate in various states of dress, they were disorganized and confused, obviously not expecting any sort of attack, he counted thirty four in total. For former soldiers, they had a surprising lack of discipline, not that it would help them. 

A massive hulking brute of a man with a warhammer appeared last, obviously the leader, since he was barking orders and pointing, commanding them to find their attacker. They didn't have to look very hard, Marcus dropped the crossbow and stepped out from his cover into the open, he wanted them to see him.

"Afternoon." he said to the crowd of murderous barbarians that stood before him. "I'm glad I got your attention."

"Who the fuck are you?" their leader demanded "Where's the rest of you fucking cunts?" 

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's just me. My name is Marcus Duronius, soldier of the Inquisition. I saw what you did to that village back there. How you slaughtered unarmed old men, women, and children, how you looted and burned their town to the ground."

"The Inquisition? You here to preach to us about Andraste's fine tits or something?" the leader laughed "You here to make us repent our sins and find our faith in the Maker?" 

"Not exactly. I was actually planning on killing you all where you stand." more laughter

"You're gonna fight all of us on your own?" 

"I never said that. I said I was going to kill all of you on my own. Though, I can assure you that it won't be much of a fight." Marcus replied coldly.

"Tough talk for a man with no friends." one of the bandits said, they started to move, forming a semicircle around him. 

"If any of you have final prayers, speak them now before I send you to your Maker for judgment." 

"Will somebody kill the smug bastard already?"

"So be it. Tiid Klo Ul!" Marcus shouted. 

Time was brought to a near standstill, the movement of the bandits surrounding him was slowed so greatly, that it was barely perceptible to the naked eye, yet Marcus was unaffected by the shout. This was going to be far too easy. He drew his sword and began cutting down the bandits, who were incapable of defending themselves. It was hardly fair, but Marcus never believed in a fair fight. If you had an advantage over whatever was trying to kill you, use it. And any moral objections he might have had about this one sided slaughter were nullified by what these men had done to the village. They were animals, and would be butchered as such. 

By the time the shout's effect on time had worn off, more than half of them lay dead, their blood soaking the grass, only twelve of the original thirty four still drew breath. Marcus hadn't even broken a sweat. "What was that about killing the smug bastard?" he asked smugly. Those whom he had yet to kill looked at him in abject horror and shock.

"What... how... what did you do?" the leader stuttered.

"I'm only doing what I said I was going to do." The bandits started to back away slowly. He could smell the fear permeating from their bodies, and it only made him angrier. "Where are you going? Are you such hardened and threatening men such as yourselves afraid of me?" One of them dropped his spear, turned and broke into a full sprint, but Marcus wasn't about to let any of them escape him.

"Wuld!" he shot forward, past the others, sword pointed ahead of him. He impaled the fleeing man through his lower back, the sword punching straight through armor and flesh, forced completely through his body all the way to the cross guard. He died choking on his own blood as Marcus dropped the body to the ground and braced it with his foot to pull the sword out. "The only way you make it out of here alive is if you kill me." He smiled at them through the motionless face of his mask. "So... who's next?" With a shout of fear and rage, one of the men, this one armed with a greatsword charged Marcus, swinging it like a maniac. He parried, dodged, and blocked with his shield with ease, the frantic and thoughtless blows left the man open. He sidestepped a titanic vertical blow that would have cut him in half, then ham-stringed the man with a short cut of his blade. The Freeman dropped the sword with a cry of pain and fell to his knees, but before Marcus could deliver the killing blow, another man charged him from the side, a long spear pointed out in front of him.

"Die you fucking demon!" Marcus grabbed the first man by the collar of his armor and swung him around to put him in between himself and the charging man. The spear embedded itself deeply into the man's chest, killing him instantly. Marcus tossed the body aside and beheaded the now weaponless man with one swift swing of his sword. Only nine left. The rest hung back, unsure of what to do. He'd had his fun, it was time to end this.

"Yol Toor Shul!" The shout bathed the survivors in a wave of fire, six more of them dropped to the ground screaming, quickly roasting alive inside of their armor. The two that remained threw their weapons to the ground and fell to their knees before him, begging him to show mercy. He gave them both the mercy of a quick death before finally turning his attention to their leader, the man he had saved for last.

"Coward!" the bandit shouted "Fight me like a man, none of that damned magic." 

"This coming from the man who butchered unarmed men, women, and children?" Marcus laughed "You calling somebody a coward doesn't mean much."

"I am challenging you. Fight me, one on one. No magic, no tricks, just your sword against my hammer. Then we'll see who truly is the better man."

Marcus laughed again. "You're trying to bait me aren't you? You think that I'm honor bound to accept your challenge and give you a chance to kill me. Sadly for you, I'm not biting. Rii Vaaz Zol!" 

* * * 

It was late afternoon when Solas and Cassandra had finished creating a funeral pyre for the dead villagers, they used the town's supply of firewood, which, ironically, was one of the few things wasn't burned to ash. Evelyn had watched them work, her broken ankle preventing her from doing much walking. Cassandra recited a few prayers she knew from her days in the Chantry and Solas set the bodies alight. 

"He's been gone for a long time." Evelyn stated, staring the blazing funeral pyre. "Do you think he is alright?"

"I am sure that he is fine." Solas said. "He doesn't strike me as the sort of man who would..." he was cut off as the Dragonborn emerged from the dirt path he had disappeared down several hours before. The large man was covered from head to toe in crimson blood. 

"Oh, you're back." Cassandra said, fixing him with her gaze. 

"Are you alright?" Evelyn asked "I take it you found the Freemen?" 

Without a word, he stopped at his horse and grabbed a rag from his saddlebag. He then strode past his comrades to the well in the center of the town. He knelt down and picked up a bucket tied to a rope and lowered it into the well, filled it with water and drew it back up again. Without a word, he started to undo the clasps, straps, and buckles that held his armor together, stripping off piece by piece until all that remained was his leather under clothes. Without a word he soaked his rag in the bucket of water and cleaned all of the blood off of his armor, mask, and sword until it was as spotless as it had been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Index  
> Tiid Klo Ul - Time Sand Eternity - Slow Time  
> Wuld - Whirlwind - Whirlwind Sprint  
> Yol Toor Shul - Fire Inferno Sun - Fire Breath  
> Rii Vaaz Zol - Essence Tear Zombie - Soul Tear  
> 


	9. First Command

They rest of the journey back to Haven seemed to go by in a blur. Before he even knew it, Marcus, Evelyn, Cassandra, and Solas were dismounting their horses in front of the corral for Master Dennet to take care of and walking through the gates of Haven. Evelyn's ankle hadn't gotten any better during the trip. None of them were healers and without proper treatment, plus the constant strain of travel, it had swollen so much that she couldn't even stand, let alone walk on it. As soon as they were through the gates, she was rushed off to Adan so that he could treat it and make sure it healed correctly, and as quickly as possible. Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen were waiting for them in the Chantry to give their to give the report on the mission to Val Royeaux, and with Evelyn incapacitated for the time being they asked Marcus to substitute for her in the debriefing. He greeted Varric with a quick hello and a wave as he passed by his usual haunt. The dwarf was busy pouring over some sort of paperwork, but waved back at him. As he and Cassandra pushed their way through the Chantry doors, Leliana and Josephine joined them.

"It's good you have returned. We heard of your encounter." the Ambassador said

"You heard?" Cassandra replied

"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course." Leliana said

"Of course they did. I hope you didn't go through my belongings while we were gone." Marcus told Leliana giving the spymaster a sly smile. He wasn't terribly worried that she might have. He had taken his journal and family portrait with him to Val Royeaux, leaving only Auriel's Bow and the Elder Scroll, though it would be quite unfortunate if somebody had tried to read it, though judging by her lack of blindness or raving insanity he could tell that she hadn't.

She gasped and raised a hand to her mouth feigning offense at Marcus' accusation. "Why I would never! I respect the privacy of my peers... unless there's something you're trying to hide from the Inquisition?" 

"I thought it was obvious. It's not like I've been hiding the fact that I have something to hide." 

"Good point. Shall we schedule an interrogation for you?" 

"Ughh," Cassandra grunted in annoyance

Josephine cleared her throat to get their attention. "Shall we return to the task at hand?" 

"Of course Josie, I was just waiting for our esteemed commander to join us." Leliana remarked.

"Well, you won't be waiting any longer." the Commander said as he entered the Chantry. He looked disheveled, and there was a slight trickle of blood flowing from his bottom lip where the skin was starting to bruise. "Sorry I'm late, I had to break up a fist fight between a couple of the new recruits." 

"And one of these men punched you in the face for trying to trying to stop this fight?" Josephine asked in shock.

"A woman, actually." Cullen said, almost under his breath and rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "And it was my fault really. I stepped between the two when she was throwing the punch at the other man." 

"What were they fighting about?" Leliana inquired

"I don't know, something about somebody's sister and an incident with a beehive? It's not important." he looked at Cassandra and Marcus "Leliana's already briefed me on what happened. It's a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital."

"Well, if everybody knows what happened in Val Royeaux, then I suppose I am no longer needed to describe what happened in Val Royeaux." Marcus said, turning to leave. 

"Hold on just a moment if you please." Josephine said. "We would like your opinion on the matter. We have been given an opportunity to approach both the mages and the Templars with an offer of alliance. The problem lies in which faction we are to extend this offer" 

"So, why does my opinion on the issue matter?" 

"It would never hurt to have another unbiased opinion in important discussions such as this. And since you are neither affiliated with the Chantry, the Templars, nor the Rebel Mages, you could give that opinion." 

"Why not ask Evelyn?"

"I plan to, once she has been given proper rest and care."

"Very well." he said thoughtfully, they started off further into the Chantry towards the war room. "Are you certain we can even approach the Templars. Their Lord Seeker made it very clear to us what his thoughts were about a possible alliance, before leaving the city." 

"Yes, Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember." Cassandra agreed.

"True. He has taken the Order somewhere. But to do what? My reports have been... very odd." said Leliana

"We must look into it." Cullen said. "I'm certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker."

"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the Mages in Redcliffe instead." Josephine suggested. 

"You think the Mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!" Cullen exclaimed 

"I hardly claim to be an expert on the subject, but I think that the mages might be the safer bet. Like I said before, Fiona came to US with an offer of alliance, while the Templars clearly stated that they weren't interested. I know that people fear mages, and that siding with the Templars would give us more public support, but the mages should be given a chance to prove themselves. I'm not saying we let them wander freely and do as they please. They would need to be kept under constant watch to ensure that there are no abominations. Or in the least, we could find out what they want from this." Marcus said.

"Of course you would support the mages. No doubt they want what they've always wanted; Support for their cause." Cassandra stated, matter-of-factly.

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe. The mages may be worth the risk." Josephine said

"They are powerful, Ambassador. But they are more desperate than you realize."

"You suspect a trap?" Marcus inquired

"If some of the Rebel Mages were responsible for what happened at the Conclave..." 

"The same could be said of the Templars." Josephine retorted. 

"True enough. Right now, I'm not certain we have enough influence to approach the order safely." Cullen stated

"Then the Inquisition more agents in more places." Cassandra said

"In the meantime, we should consider other options." Josephine said, putting an end to the meeting. The advisers dispersed leaving only Marcus and Leliana in the Chantry hall. 

"So... are you up for a game or two of chess?" Marcus asked the spymaster "I've been practicing against Solas on our trip to Val Royeaux and I think I've gotten better."

"I suppose I have time. I just have some things I would like to discuss with the Cassandra first." They left the Chantry and Marcus returned to his tent just outside the walls with his traveling pack. Surprisingly he found his personal chest still locked and when he opened it, everything seemed to be in order. He returned his clothing, journal, and family portrait to the chest before closing and locking it again. Once he was sure all of his things were as they should be, he headed to Adan's hut to check on Evelyn, he found her asleep, and the healer assured him that she'd be alright in a few weeks. After saying hello to Solas, he made for Leliana's work space, where they usually played. He pulled the board out from underneath the table and pulled up a couple stools for them to sit, he then set the pieces on the board. In few minutes the bard arrived and took her seat across from him.

"So, what did you and Cassandra have to discuss?" 

"We discussed your performance in the field." 

"What about my performance in the field?" 

"The Seeker believes that you take unnecessary risks. You put yourself in danger for personal vendettas."

"Ah." he said. "So she's concerned about the incident with the Freemen."

"I am too. You stormed off on your own with barely a word and returned hours later covered in blood. What if you had been killed? You would throw your life away for some people you barely knew?"

He looked her in the eye and laughed. "In danger? I was never in danger from them. It was more along the lines of pest control than a mission of revenge."

"Well, whatever it was or was not, we can't have breaks in discipline like that again. I don't want to see you get hurt." then she quickly added "Or any of the others." 

"I appreciate the concern Leliana, I really do. But I do know what I am doing." With that they started their game in silence. As the game began to wind down, with Leliana holding a clear advantage, she decided to speak up.

"I've been thinking a lot about you." she said studying his face closely as he took his turn.

"Have you? That's good to hear, I was starting to worry that I was losing my charm." 

"I've been thinking about who you might be, and I think I've deduced the truth." 

"Ooh, intriguing. Do tell." he said with a sly smile.

"Judging by your name and your complexion, I'm guessing that you are from Tevinter. Most likely, you were sent by the Magesterium to spy on the Conclave, and now you are observing the Inquisition for them. Your manner of speech and the way you carry yourself suggest that you are a noble. While you were in Val Royeaux, I had my agents in Minrathous try to find any information they could on the the Duronius family, but they could find nothing, so I must assume that you are using a false name, though using a false name that was so obviously Tevinter wasn't the wisest course of action. Your power could be some new form of experimental magic being developed in the Imperium. Though I know you haven't been sending any reports back to Tevinter. Check." she stated, moving a piece and leaning back in her chair, clasping her hands together.

"A moment ago you were worrying about me getting hurt, but now you are accusing me of being a spy?" he moved the king out of danger "I must say that's somewhat bizarre."

"Well, whatever you may be, you've been nothing but beneficial to the Inquisition." She shrugged, "So, do you deny it?" 

"It was a good, educated guess, but no, I am not a Tevinter spy." he said, moving his piece, he took one of her mages and was beginning to pull the game back in his favor.

She looked at him. "Then where are you from? You might as well tell me now, because sooner or later I am going to find out. I always find out." 

"Very well, I give up on this charade." he sighed. "I am actually a dragon-slaying warrior Demigod from another world. I traveled the land slaying monsters and protecting the innocent while accumulating a vast fortune that rivaled even the wealthiest of nobles. My power was feared and respected throughout the land and I was consulted by Kings and Emperors on matters of state. Incidentally, I was sent to Thedas by an ancient artifact, as old as time itself, and containing immense magical power that is beyond all mortal comprehension." 

She stared at him perplexed, contemplating everything he had just said, before bursting into laughter. "You tell quite the story Marcus I'll give you that. Perhaps you could give Varric a few ideas for his next novel." 

"Nah, I'm not creative enough to be a professional writer. I'll just stick to stabbing things." 

"Suit yourself." she moved a piece "There is another matter I would like to discuss with you though. A few months ago, the Grey Wardens in Ferelden disappeared. My agents haven't been able to find anything on their whereabouts, but two days ago, I recieved a report from my people in the Hinterlands of a Grey Warden recruiter named Blackwall. Any information he might have on where they may have gone would be invaluable. With the Herald out of commission for the time being, I wanted to send you to find and talk with him. You can bring Sera and Madame de Fer along with you, gauge their performances and judge whether they will be an asset to the Inquisition." 

"So, first you were chastising me for my actions, then you accused me of being a Tevinter spy, but now you want me to command?" he laughed "You're impossible to understand, Sister Nightingale." 

"That's the way I prefer it to be." she smiled "And I must admit, I don't actually think that you are a spy. I was only teasing." 

"So, why me? I would think that you'd place Cassandra in charge of something like this." 

"Cassandra is needed here to help plan our next move. Look at it as a way for you to prove yourself. Do well and there may be more responsibilities for you in the future." 

"Wonderful." he sighed "Do you know when they should arrive?"

"Enchanter Vivienne will be here in three days. Sera? I honestly haven't a clue. Get moving as quickly as possible, we can't afford to waste any time. " 

"I'll try not to disappoint."


	10. The Concerns of an Elven Apostate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unforeseen circumstances delay Marcus' voyage. He and Solas have a conversation about power.

Sera had arrived shortly after Leliana had given Marcus his assignment, like five minutes after. She showed up unannounced, alone and on foot. Marcus had no idea how she had gotten here so quickly without a horse, but shrugged it off. The elf quickly found a spot and took up residence in the small tavern that Haven possessed. Enchanter Vivienne had arrived precisely when she said she would, with a small entourage of servants, but she surprised Marcus when she dismissed them all back to Val Royeaux after they had finished moving all of her not insignificant belongings into her living quarters. Josephine threw a small welcoming party for their two newest members with the Inquisition's Advisors and Inner Circle. Evelyn had managed to attend, though was unable to walk without the aid of crutches.

After they had been given a few days to settle, Marcus decided it was time for them to get a move on. They packed food, water and shelter enough to last them the week long trip there and the week back. But then their plans were disrupted by the arrival of a messenger, a short-haired woman in heavy by the name of Cremissius Aclassi. She was part of a mercenary group interested in sharing information on a Tevinter smuggling operation, and possibly joining the Inquisition. Her group, the Bull's Chargers were camped out on the Storm Coast and their leader, appropriately named "The Iron Bull" wished to meet them within the month. Later that day, after deliberations on the matter by the Inquisition's leading council, Josephine found Marcus waiting by the gate for their decision in the mid afternoon.

"So, have you come to a decision?" 

"This proposition presents a slight problem." Josephine said "Though not one that isn't fixed with relative ease. The Hinterlands and the Storm Coast are quite a distance If you went to the Hinterlands first to meet with this Warden Blackwall, then you might no be able to meet The Iron Bull's requested deadline. So might I suggest going to the Storm Coast first to meet with the Chargers?"

Marcus asked. He noticed the poor Antivan diplomat shivering in the freezing mountain air, and though the cold didn't bother him in the slightest anymore, he could certainly relate to her misery. Back to when he had just traveled to Skyrim from High Rock. The climates were almost completely different, despite the geographic closeness of the two provinces. The biting cold had been one of the hardest things for him to get used to, especially after living in temperate Cyrodiil and in the burning heat of Hammerfell. Some of his Nord friends who had lived in Skyrim their entire lives were merciless in their teasing him when they caught him shivering under piles of furs or heard his teeth chattering when the bitter wind bit at him through his clothes. From what he had heard, Antiva was practically a tropical paradise compared to the harsh Frostbacks, and the fact that none of her clothes were suited to this kind of climate didn't help her either. Marcus pitied the woman, but couldn't help but admire her dedication. Not once had he heard her complain.

"We don't need to speak out her in the cold. Why don't we continue this inside?" he remarked "To be honest, you look like you are about to freeze into a block of ice."

"Oh, thank the Maker! yes please!" The Inquisition's ambassador hurried off at a surprising speed towards the Chantry, silks and satin flowing behind her as Marcus followed at a much slower pace. He actually enjoyed the feeling of the cold air against his skin. It reminded him of home. Though he supposed that this was his home now. He smiled and waved a greeting to Leliana who was speaking with one of her agents. She looked up at him and nodded before turning back to her work. Marcus trailed the ambassador through the Chantry doors and into her small office that sat near the war room. Josephine sat down at her desk and smoothed her skirts and ruffles and all that before grabbing a quill and looking up at Marcus.

"Now, where were we?" she paused "Oh, yes. The issue of who to meet with first."

"Why not just send somebody else to speak with the Chargers? Or to go find Blackwall?"

"That is... an excellent point." she replied "Do you have any preference for whom you wish to speak to yourself?"

"Well, the Hinterlands are secured for the most part. I'm sure a few men from one of the camps we have in the region can find Warden Blackwall easily enough. We have no presence in the Storm Coast, so I think I'll head there myself."

"Excellent." she jotted the information down on her board. "I will speak with Leliana about sending a scouting party ahead of you. It will take some time for the quartermaster to procure the additional supplies you will need for the longer journey, since we were only expecting you to travel to the Hinterlands. It will likely take most of the day, so you should stay here another night and leave in the morning."

Marcus nodded. "So, what authority do I have in dealing with the Chargers?"

"Leliana, Cullen and I have discussed it, and we defer the matter of their employment to your judgment."

"Really? Why? I'm not even part of the Inquisition's leadership, and now you're letting me decide who joins?"

"Because, like Leliana explained when she gave you command of this expedition, we believe that you show promise. You are intelligent, you seem to care deeply for the cause, and you have shown leadership capability."

Marcus only nodded. He said his farewells to the Ambassador before leaving her small office and venturing back out into the cold mountain air towards the tavern. If he didn't have any traveling to do today, he might as well have a drink or two. He was about to push the door open when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I understand that the Inquisition is giving you more authority." Solas said.

"Yes Solas, it's hardly a secret." Marcus replied "Is there something you wished to speak about?"

"Yes, but not here. Meet me in the woods tonight around 7:00" Marcus nodded and went into the tavern, and had a couple drinks with Varric, Sera and some of the men, though not enough to cloud his judgment, he knew he had to be careful when speaking to this elf, there was just something about him that he couldn't put his finger on. Varric told stories about some of his adventures with Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, and while half of what he said was probably bullshit, it was sure as Oblivion entertaining bullshit. In no time Sera was drunk and singing out of tune along with an equally drunk Varric, she climbed up on the bar and did a dance for the clapping crowd of drunken soldiers before slipping on some spilled rum and fell from the bar in a splayed mess on the ground, everybody laughed, but none harder than Sera. Time passed by quickly and before he knew it, it was 7:00. He'd had a bit more than a couple drinks and his head was getting a bit foggy, but he could still think with relative clarity, or at least he believed he could. He made an excuse about not wanting to be hungover for the morning ride, and left the tavern quickly, to find Solas standing out front waiting for him. They made their way through the gate, being careful to make sure they weren't being followed. The trees rustled in the mountain air and his feet made a soft crunching sound in the snow, Solas' barely made any sort of imprint at all. ' _Elves_.' he thought to himself, chuckling silently. There wasn't much that Solas would want to speak to him about that would take them away from Haven, so he understood what he wanted pretty quickly.

"So that is what you want to talk about?" Marcus asked

"I understand that you will be leaving for a long while and we won't have a chance to speak. I let my curiosity get the better of me."

"Alright, ask away."

"Your power. I assume there are others like yourself who have existed throughout Tamriel's history?"

"Other Dragonborn? There have been a number of them. The most famous would be Tiber Septim, he built army and used his power to conquer all of Tamriel to found the Third Empire. The first Dragonborn would be a man who was part of the Dragon Cult named Miraak."

"Dragon Cult?"

"Yes, humans who worshiped dragons in the ancient days." Marcus stated "They were granted enormous power by the dragons in exchange for their fealty, and ruled over all of humanity in their name. They were removed from power after the Dragon War."

"You said that a man, Tiber Septim, conquered a continent using the same power that you have?"

"Yes, the Thu'um was a prominent tool in his campaigns."

"Interesting." the elf said frowning. "What of this Miraak? What do you know of him?"

"Like I said, he was the first Dragonborn. A Dragon Priest. When he discovered his power, he made a deal with the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, Hermaeus Mora, to learn more forbidden knowledge, before turning against his dragon overlords. After he slew many of them, they destroyed him, or at least thought they did. He was saved by Mora and was kept safe to regain his power, which, after the Dragon War, he couldn't do, until the dragons started to return."

"Daedric Prince?"

"Oh, of course." Marcus said "There are two different groups, so to speak, of divine beings in my world. The Aedra, the gods who created my world, and the Daedra, the gods who did not help create my world. Each god embodies a certain characteristic, some evil, some good, some neither. I'm not a priest, so don't expect a lengthy explanation on the Divines and the Daedra from me.

Solas nodded affirmation "So, what happened to this rogue Dragonborn?" he asked

"I killed him." Marcus replied "It was either him or possibly the world. He scorned his master and sought to break free from his grasp, so Mora gave me the knowledge I needed and allowed me into his world to kill Miraak."

"What sort of knowledge?"

Marcus paused, studying the elf's features. "You're concerned that I may become a threat, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course I am concerned." he sighed "From what you have told me, every single one of your kind has been a significant threat to your world, to say nothing of this one. I need to know if you could be stopped."

"That's not going to happen. I won't let myself become a threat."

"You are a good person Marcus. You put the well-being of the people above all else, you care. But what if you become mad with power like this Miraak? Or what if you decide that what is best for the people's well-being is for you to lord over them?"

"I suppose you could gag me, or maybe cut my tongue out." Marcus said with a shrug.

Solas shook his head. "Please, Marcus. I'm asking you to take this seriously."

"You're right. I'm sorry." he pinched the bridge of his nose. He figured that telling Solas that he was significantly more powerful than both Miraak and Tiber Septim would do very little to alleviate the mage's concern.

"All I can do is give you my word that I won't let it come to that. I don't want to rule over others, I only want to help restore order, not change it. I know better than anybody what my power can do if abused and I don't want to become that."

"I want to believe you." Solas said "But what if you didn't have control? What if somebody used blood magic or some other way to control your mind?"

' _Then may your Maker, or whatever gods you worship have mercy on you all_.' "Whatever else I may be, I am still a man, a mortal man who can be killed like any other." 

"I wish that your answer eased my mind more than it did, but I suppose that your word will have to do." Solas' skeptical tone didn't convince Marcus that he really felt that way.

The two of them returned to Haven in silence. Marcus stopped in his tent to make sure that he wasn't forgetting anything important, and that everything he wasn't taking was secured. He pushed through the flap of his tent and strolled through Haven's gate and started climbing the steps. He might as well get another drink. Another familiar voice called out to him from the shadows catching him by surprise. 

"So, how was your night time stroll through the woods with our Elven apostate?" he could practically hear the smirk in Leliana's voice. 

He knew better than to try pretend he hadn't been talking with Solas "Fine. We just wanted to discuss something in private" he said, turning around to face the spymaster.

"What did you talk about?" she asked, walking up to him.

"Do you have any concept of privacy?" he laughed "Can't I have a conversation with someone without you having to know everything about it?" 

"When two significant members are sneaking off into the woods for a private conversation it is my concern. Unless..." 

"What do you mean by  _unless_?" he asked, but all she did was cross her arms and smile at him devilishly, and he finally understood. "You think Solas and I...? Oh no! NO! I am not in a... 'relationship' with Solas! Nor am I attracted to men either." 

"That's good to hear." she replied with that fucking smirk "So if it wasn't anything... 'intimate' why did you have to talk all the way out there?" 

"Solas had concerns about the, uh... extent... of my 'abilities'. He wanted me to put his concerns at ease about it, but didn't want anybody to hear us." he paused for a moment, waiting for a response, but when he saw her smirk grow even more he rethought what he just said. He groaned and slapped himself in the forehead. "Ugh, that came out wrong. He knew that I make people nervous, and he didn't want anything that might have been said to make people more nervous " 

She laughed at his painful, and out of character awkwardness "So, you didn't want to make people nervous with your conversation that was supposed to make somebody less nervous?" 

"Well, in hindsight, and if you put it that way it might sound a little absurd." 

"Indeed. So what were these concerns that our Elven friend had?"

Marcus sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "He was worried that I might be turned against the Inquisition and wanted to know if I could be stopped." 

"So, how can you be stopped? What weaknesses do you have?" she asked slyly,

"The only one I can think of is my weakness for beautiful women, so I suppose you shouldn't have too much trouble beating me." he laughed nervously before the words he had just said registered in his mind and it hit him like a pissed off giant. ' _Oh Fuck Me. Where did that even come from? Why didn't I stop at two drinks like I told myself I was going to?'_  . His face was burning as though he was being roasted alive in the infernos of Oblivion despite the freezing cold. He could feel his stomach tie itself into a knot that felt like it could never be undone. Leliana stared at him in surprise, and in the torchlight he could see a faint blush on the spymaster's cheeks under her hood .

She recovered first "Well, you certainly have a way with the ladies. I'll give you that."  

_ 'Please just let this be a dream, a painfully awkward dream that I would really like to wake up from right about now'  _ he begged silently as he was repeatedly slamming his metaphorical head into a wall. 

"Um, well, it's late, and I think I'll be going off to bed now." Marcus said, just wanting an excuse to get the fuck out of there.

"It's not even 8 o'clock yet." 

"Oh, right, um... well, long journey in the morning and all that. Got a lot of ground to cover, you know?" 

That made her laugh, "Of course, well, if I don't catch you in the morning, I wish you a safe journey." 

"Yeah, umm, good night ma'am." another laugh as he turned from her and hauled ass back down the steps to his tent. He quickly changed into his nightclothes, hopped into bed and stared at the canvas ceiling. His entire face still burned like lava from Red Mountain. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't that bad, but oh gods it was. Knowing Leliana, he was never going to let him live it down, and on top of that, she'd probably tell everybody too. This wasn't going to be fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know Krem is transgender and is a man, but Marcus doesn't know it, so that's why he's referred to as she.


	11. The Storm Coast

_'Note to self... Never EVER put these two together on another mission. EVER!'_ Marcus thought to himself as he rode. Enchanter Vivienne and Sera got along together about as well as a Frostbite Spider and, well... anything other than a Frostbite Spider, though it was difficult to tell who was which. What he could tell was that the two women couldn't possibly be any more different, and that they positively loathed each other for it, or well, Sera loathed Vivienne at least. Vivienne seemed largely indifferent towards the elf, looking down her nose at her, brushing off her childish insults or responding with coy remarks about the elf's state of disarray, so to speak, which only infuriated Sera and made her redouble her attempts to get a reaction out of the mage. He'd ordered the two to knock it off, but Sera seemed to harbor an inherent dislike and utter disrespect for any sort of authority other than that she held over herself. In addition, she held a deep mistrust for anything magic or involving magic, least of all the Thu'um. The few times Marcus had used it during the journey to the Storm Coast, it had nearly sent her into a panic followed by a tirade of insults and demands for him to never use it again. Vivienne on the other hand seemed intrigued by it.

"Darling, you must show me how you do all of that someday." she had remarked once after Marcus had cleared up some gathering storm clouds before they could unleash their cargo of rain on the road weary travelers. 

"I'd be delighted to show you what I know Madame de Fer. But are you willing to dedicate the rest of your life solely to vigorous study and meditation?" Vivienne didn't bring it up again.

"NO!" Sera immediately shouted "Frig No! It's not normal, it's bad enough havin one o' you goin around messing with the sky and such!"

"What? Do you enjoy being rained on?" Marcus asked

"No I don' like bein rained on, but rain's normal innit? If it's gonna rain, it's gonna rain, if it's not, it's not. You can't just go around changing the friggin weather! That's not normal!" 

"Sure I can. I just did." 

"But it in't right! Magic in't right!" 

"Magic is just as much a part of this world as you, or the sky, or your bow." Marcus replied "Perhaps if you just took the time to better understand it, maybe you...." 

"No." Sera said firmly, Marcus just shrugged and that was the end of that conversation.

Another thing to add to their misery was the fact that not one of them knew how to cook anything in the slightest. They shifted cooking duty from day to day, and it seemed like each meal outdid the last in how bad it was, it'd even become like a little competition to see who was the worst at preparing a meal. Also, to make matters worse, a drunken Sera had somehow wound up on the rooftop of a nearby building when Marcus had his uncomfortable conversation with Leliana, she'd heard everything and the copious amount of alcohol she'd consumed hadn't made her forget. So now wouldn't stop teasing him about it. Not soon enough, the small party finally reached the forward camp set up by Leliana's scouts in the Storm Coast, which, true to it's name, was quite stormy. They dismounted and reined their horses to a tether that the scouts had set up for their own horses. The treacherous, rocky terrain meant that they would have to continue on foot, or risk having a horse break a leg with an unfortunate misstep. The rain came down in sheets, drenching everything and everyone, or it would have if Marcus hadn't been there. After very brief consideration about Sera's concerns, he decided he'd rather be dry while traveling. 

"Cover your ears."

"Oh no, you better not..." Sera started, but when she saw Marcus open his mouth and inhale for the shout, she growled angrily and pressed her hands to her ears so tightly that she might have cracked her skull if she'd squeezed any harder. Vivienne and the Inquisition soldiers milling about did as he asked without question. 

"Lok Vah Koor!"  

The rain clouds parted and the sun finally shown on the weather beaten earth of the Storm Coast. A familiar looking dwarven woman approached them smiling. "It's good to see you again Marcus. Sister Nightingale told me you'd be coming." 

"Likewise Harding. I hear you were promoted to head scout. Congratulations." 

"Thank you." she replied "I suppose you would like a briefing on what we've found here?" 

"That I would. What can you tell me about the area?" 

"The situation hasn't been good. We've had run ins with this bandit group. All attempts at peaceful negotiation have been met with hostility, they know the area better than we do and we lack the numbers to put up much of a fight, let alone drive them out." she paused "And one other thing. A patrol has gone missing in the hills directly south of here. It's most likely the work of the bandits, if you could find them, alive or dead, I would be in your debt."

"We'll find your men." Marcus replied "Have you by any chance seen the Bull's Chargers? I'm sure you've been told that we're supposed to meet them here."

"No, those thugs have us penned up pretty tightly here. We haven't been able to explore much of the area." 

Marcus nodded before returning to his horse. He pulled a map of the Storm Coast that Krem had marked with their meeting location, from the saddlebag and brought it over to Harding. "Can you tell us exactly where we are?"

"Sure, just give me a moment." he handed the dwarf the map and she studied it for a few seconds. "Right here." she said, pointing to a spot very close to the location Krem had marked. 

"Oh, good, they're actually right down there." Marcus said, pointing towards the roaring waves of the ocean a few hundred yards away. "Well, no time to waste, let's get a move on." he started to move off towards the meeting point but stopped when he realized that Vivienne and Sera weren't following him. "I said, let's get a move on."

"My dear, we've been traveling for weeks through this horrid country." Vivienne complained. "Don't you think we should take a moment to rest?" 

Marcus smiled at the Imperial Enchanter "Nope. We only got up a few hours ago. They day is still young and we have things to kill." 

She shook her head in annoyance and Sera groaned, but both of them followed Marcus as he made his way down the rocky ground towards the water. It wasn't long before they could hear the sounds of fighting, the clash of steel, shouts and screams of men and the distinct zapping sound of lightning magic being used. They quickened their pace down the rocky shore and came upon the scene of battle. One group, that Marcus figured to be the Chargers was locked in battle with a number of soldiers and a mage from Tevinter. In the thick of it was the largest Qunari Marcus had ever seen wielding an equally huge two handed axe. The few that Marcus had come across in his time in Thedas had all been exceedingly large, but this one put them to shame. Judging by his size, and his massive horns, Marcus immediately deduced him to be Iron Bull. 

"Alright, you know which ones to kill. Sera, take up position on the rocks overlooking the shore, be careful with your shots." the elf, thankfully, nodded and moved to where he pointed. "Vivienne, you're with on the beach, but stay back and provide..."

"I do know how to fight darling." 

"Right... sorry." Marcus unsheathed his sword and charged the nearest Tevinter. The man turned just in time to watch as several hundred pounds of metal, flesh, bone, and muscle slammed him to the ground. Marcus finished him off with a thrust of his sword into the man's unprotected armpit. He gave a harsh scream before expiring. Marcus next turned his attention to the Tevinter mage, who was desperately flinging lightning at anybody not wearing Tevinter armor. The mage saw him coming and threw spells at him viciously, but they all dissipated harmlessly against Spellbreaker's ward. Marcus drove his sword up through the man's ribs, killing him almost instantly. He turned, searching for a new target, but the Chargers had already finished them all off.

"Chargers! Stand down!" Iron Bull shouted "Krem! how'd we do?" 

"Five or six wounded Chief. No dead." his lieutenant replied

"That's what I like to hear. Let the throatcutters finish up their work then break out the casks." Marcus pulled of Otar and approached the Qunari, he noticed for the first time that his left eye was covered by a patch. The mercenary, noticing his approach, turned to him as Sera climbed down from her position.

"So, you're with the Inquisition huh? Glad you could make it." he said "Come on have a seat, drinks are coming." 

"Nice work. I take it that you're the Iron Bull? My name's Marcus." 

"Was it the horns that gave me away?"

"Yup." Marcus replied. Bull took a seat on a rock and gestured toward Krem, who was walking up to them. 

"I assume you remember Cremisius Aclassi, my Lieutenant." Marcus nodded to the warrior.

"Good to see you again." Krem said "Throatcutters are done Chief."

"Already? Have 'em check again. Don't want any of those Tevinter bastards getting away. No offense Krem."

"Least a bastard knows who his mother was. Puts him one up on you Qunari right?" he replied smartly before walking away.  

"So... you've seen us fight. We're expensive but we're worth it... and I'm sure the Inquisition can afford us." 

"How expensive?" Marcus asked, while he had been permission to hire or not hire the Chargers as he saw fit, he was still concerned about overspending. 

"It's up for negotiation, I suppose. We can go through, your ambassador, what's her name...? Josephine? She can set up the payments." It wasn't really an answer he wanted, but Marcus shrugged. "The gold will take care of itself, all that matters is that we're worth it. Plus, you're not just getting the boys, you're getting me. You need a front line bodyguard, I'm your man." 

"Hmm. How about a little wager? The Bull's Chargers against me in a fight. If you beat me, you're hired, full price, plus a bonus. If I win, I might still hire you, but your services come at half price." Marcus said with a smile "No lethal weapons or magic though. I wouldn't want any of you getting hurt." 

"The three of you against me and my entire mercenary band?"

"No, just me."

"You're crazy, but I can never pass up on a bet that I can't lose." 

Vivienne smiled and Sera looked at the Qunari and shook her head vigorously. "Don't, just don't! You're just givin him an excuse to use that weird voice magic shite!" 

"Voice magic? Wait... that was you who cleared up that storm? Not long ago we heard what sounded like a voice carried on the wind with a boom like thunder, then the clouds just parted and the sun came out." Bull laughed "Can't say I've heard of any magic like that before." 

"So, are you gonna take the bet?" 

"Well, making some clouds disappear is a fancy trick, though I don't see how it would help you in combat. But then again, I don't know what else you can do." 

"Come on! You're a battle-hardened bunch of blood crazed mercenaries! Surely you can take on just one man with a few magic parlor tricks." 

"We're not blood crazed!" Bull said defensively. "Well... maybe some of us are, but I don't know." 

"I'm not that scary. Am I?" 

"Grrrr. Fine." Bull finally relented "What are the terms of the fight?" 

"Right here, right now. Myself against the..." he quickly counted "seven of you. Use any weapons, armor, or tactics you like, as long as they don't kill or maim. Magic is allowed as long as it follows the no kill or maim rule. Yields or incapacitations to win the battle I'm sure the Chargers have some sparring weapons that we could all use." 

"Alright, let me go get the weapons and tell the men. What would you prefer?"

"Longsword." Marcus replied, and Bull nodded before moving off with his troop to where they had their gear stowed. Marcus unlooped his belt with his weapons and tossed it to the ground off to the side.

"Chargers! Save the drinks for later. We're fighting this crazy bastard from the Inquisition."

"Are you sure this is wise my dear?" Vivienne asked "Gambling with the Inquisition's money like this?" 

"Sure, it's not like I'm going to lose the bet." Marcus replied 

"You seem awfully sure of yourself." she replied with a skeptical eyebrow raised. 

"It's part of my charm Madame de Fer." he chuckled.

Bull and his men returned armed with their weapons of choice, and Marcus was glad he was still wearing his armor for this. Iron Bull carried a large blunted, two-handed greatsword. Krem kept her sword and shield combination. He counted a dwarf bowman, a elven woman with two daggers, another sword and shield, a man armed only with a sword and a mage. He'd have to deal with the mage first. Krem approached him and handed Marcus a sparring sword. It felt weird in his hand, being only half the weight of his dragonbone sword, he gave it a few practice swings and jabs to get a feel for the balance. It would have to do.

"Last chance to back down, Marcus." 

"Same goes for you Bull." 

"Ha. Not a chance."

Marcus shrugged. "Shall we begin?" 

"Yeah, let's get this over with." 

Marcus fixed his gazed on their mage and shouted "Gaan Lah!" the wave of energy from his Thu'um hit three of the Chargers who couldn't jump out of the way in time, Krem, the dwarf crossbowman, and the mage. The three of them immediately collapsed to their knees, the mage tried to cast a spell but found herself unable. All of them tried to get up but fell to their knees again, their stamina and ability to fight completely drained. Three down, four to go. "Don't worry, they'll be alright in an hour or two." Marcus assured Bull. 

The rest of the Chargers looked at their companions laying immobile on the cold stone ground. The man with a sword shook his head, dropped his weapon, and walked over to the sidelines to take a seat with Vivienne and Sera who was looking away and covering her ears. Four down. Daggers moved   threw down some sort of smoke powder that obscured her from vision. Bull flanked right and his man flanked left, moving slowly, wary of what Marcus was going to do next, they were scared, overly cautious, afraid of making the wrong move.  _'Good'_ Marcus thought, _'gives me plenty of time to deal with the sneaky one.'_ "Laas Yah Niir." he whispered, the life aura of everything lving thing for several hundred yards suddenly showed red in his vision. He saw her, sliding behind some rocks, trying to get the drop on him from behind while Bull and the other man kept his attention.

They worked well together, could guess each other's actions and act in unison without the need to speak. The Chargers were certainly worth hiring if they performed like this all the time. Daggers leapt out at him from behind the rock, thinking he didn't know where she was, blunted blades ready for the "kill" but it didn't go as planned for the elf. "Fus!" Marcus shouted, and she was blasted backwards, knives flying from her hands, she hit the rocky ground hard with a groan. With this momentary distraction, the man with the sword and shield charged Marcus, locking blades and pushing hard against him, but this was just to keep him still while Bull came from behind to finish him off. Marcus heard Bull charge him from behind, sword raised for the finishing blow, he pushed the Charger off of him and shouted again just before Bull reached him "Feim!" becoming ethereal just in time. Bull, unable to stop his momentum passed straight through Marcus and slammed into his man at high speed. The unfortunate bastard was knocked back several feet and landed hard on his ass with a pained grunt. Marcus backed away from them, shield and weapon at the ready, already thinking of his next move. The Charger got up and glared at Bull before picking his sword up again to keep fighting. Tough bastard.

The ethereal effect of the shout wore off just as he heard light footsteps approaching him from behind. The elf had gotten back up and found her daggers again, ready to continue the fight. She came at him slashing wildly, he parried and blocked with his shield, blunted daggers really wouldn't have any effect in a sparing match against a man in heavy armor, unless he managed to catch him in an exposed joint, but she was certainly distracting him from the men who could hurt him. He needed to take her out of the fight. Marcus shoved the much smaller woman back with his shield and shouted at her "Faas Ru Maar!" She was immediately overcome with an unconquerable fear. She screamed in terror, dropped her daggers and fled as fast as her feet could carry her over the rough ground.

"Rggh, somebody grab Skinner before she hurts herself!" Bull shouted. The Charger who had decided to sit the fight out ran after her, and caught her, trying to sooth her, and calm the elf down.

"So, you ready to forfeit?" Marcus asked coyly.

Bull paused thinking it over "Yeah, I think we are. I don't need you to use some other horrific magic trick on me too."

"Well, if it's any consolation, the Chargers are hired. Your guys have given me more trouble than most could. The Chargers are an excellent company." 

Bull laughed "That sad display was more trouble than most people give you?"

"Yeah, in most of my fights I'm not actively trying to avoid killing my enemy, so that probably factors in." 

"Well, you won the bet fair and square, though it's my own damn fault for taking it like a moron. But if you are planning on hiring us, there is one thing you should know. Ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?"

"Nope." Marcus replied

"They are a Qunari organization, spies, and secret police for the Qun." Bull said "Or should I say, we are." 

"So you're a spy for the Qun and you just... told me?" 

"Yeah, figured I wouldn't be able to hid it for long from something called the Inquisition, so it's best you hear it right up front from me. The Ben-Hassrath are concerned about the Breach, they ordered me to join the Inquisition, get close to its leadership, and report back to them. I also have contacts with the Ben-Hassrath all across Orlais, and I get reports from them regularly, and I would be willing to share that information with the Inquisition. The Breach needs to be closed, so whatever I am, I'm on your side."

"What would you be sending back in these reports?" 

"Just enough to keep my superiors happy. Nothing that'll compromise your operation." 

"And what of the reports you receive?"

"Enemy movements, suspicious activities, intriguing gossip. It's a bit of everything." Bull explained "If you're spymaster's worth a damn, she'll put them to good use." 

"I see you've done your research." Marcus said.

"Yeah, you kinda need to when you're a spy." 

Marcus paused, considering. "Alright, Bull, the Chargers are hired, but every report you send out goes through Leliana first. You send nothing she doesn't approve of first. Understood?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Bull turned towards his men still licking their wounds "Krem, tell the men to stop their bitching and get ready to move. The Chargers just got hired." The man was just starting to recover from Marcus' shout.

"Will do, Chief."

Bull turned back to Marcus "We'll meet you back at Haven."

"Why don't you stick with us for now." Marcus said. "Let your men go on ahead, we still have some business in the Storm Coast." 

"Alright." Bull replied "What sort of business?" 

"Have you had any problems with this bandit group while you were here?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, those crazy assholes. Yeah, they attacked us when we first got here, but after we kicked their teeth in, they've left us alone." 

"An Inquisition patrol went missing some time ago, probably killed by the bandits, we could use your help finding them and dealing with these bandits." 

"That's what I'm here for boss." 

Bull saw his company off before joining Marcus, Vivienne and Sera on their way to the place where Harding had told them the scouts had gone missing. There they found a number of these bandits who were dispatched quickly along with the bodies of the patrol, and a note naming the the bandits as the Blades of Hessarian. It mentioned an amulet called Mercy's Crest that could be crafted and used to challenge their leader to a duel. The amulet required some Serpentstone and deepstalker hide to craft.

"What the fuck is a deepstalker?" Marcus asked. 

"Nastly little vermin." Bull replied "As the name implies, they prefer to live underground in the Deep Roads, though they can be found closer to the surface. The Chargers found a few caves in the cliffside on the shoreline while we've been here. We could look inside for one of the little shits." 

After a short while of searching, they found a suitable cave, filled with giants spiders and deep stalkers. After the four killed them all, Marcus skinned a deep stalker, then they left to find the Serpentstone, which was pretty common here. After they'd gathered enough, the group finally traveled back up the hillside to the camp, where Marcus forged the amulet. 

"Alright, now it's time to challenge the leader." Marcus sighed, he donned the amulet and they made for the main camp of the Blades. With Mercy's Crest, the guards let him past without incident and he approached the leader, a tall blonde man with a thick beard and armed with a hatchet, and issued the challenge. The Blades of Hessarian stood by and watched as Marcus first disarmed the man with one shout and sicked his own dogs on him with another. The fight was over in about 15 seconds. With their old leader dead, the Blades declared their allegiance to the Inquisition. Now that that was over, they could finally leave this dreadful place and go back to Haven. And he wouldn't be stuck with Vivienne and Sera's bickering for much longer, which was a plus. All in all, it was a very productive trip.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Index  
> Lok Vah Koor- Sky Spring Summer - Clear Skies  
> Gaan Lah - Stamina Magicka - Drain Vitality  
> Fus - Force - Unrelenting Force  
> Faas Ru Maar - Fear Run Terror - Dismay  
> Chargers  
> Dwarf with a crossbow: Rocky, I know he's demolitions expert, but for the "battle" he used a bow. Why? Because I'm the writer and I say so.  
> Elf with daggers: Skinner  
> Sword and shield man: Grimm  
> Sword man: Stitches  
> Mage: Dalish


	12. Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to change Marcus' dream. It'll fit in better with the story in the future and the events that caused it explain a lot of why he is the way he is.

Finishing up business in the Storm Coast was swift business. Before leaving, he wrote a letter to Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen informing her of the Charger's employment, and the allegiance of the Blades of Hessarian to the Inquisition, then the the party of four packed their things and began on the long return trip back to Haven. They had to borrow one of the extra horses from the Scouts for Bull, though Marcus could guess that he'd have rather gone on foot. The scouts used small, fast horses to quickly move around Thedas and massive Qunari nearly dwarfed the poor thing, which strained heavily to move the Qunari's sheer bulk. It's likely because of this, that Bull was uncomfortable around horses. Despite the horse problems, Marcus' party was able to catch up to the Chargers after a few days of travel, and the two groups set up camp with each other.

The Chargers had already set up their tents for the night, and once Marcus and his companions had finished setting up their own, they joined the Chargers in a circle around the camp fire. The Dragonborn felt a little awkward about it, fearing that some of them might harbor some resentment towards him. 

"I, uhh... I hope there aren't any hard feelings here" Marcus said, sitting down at the fire between Sera and Krem. "about... you know?"

"About you kicking our teeth in?" Krem laughed "Nah, we were the ones dumb enough to take your bet. 

"Speak for yourself." the elf with the daggers said with a half-hearted laugh, still shaking, loud noises and sudden movements put the woman on edge. Even after several days had past, the magic from Marcus' shout hadn't worn off entirely. "I can't control my nerves, and my ears are still ringing from that first thing you did. Fucking Shemlen." 

Marcus was nearly overcome with a sense of guilt. This exact sort of carelessness with his abilities was what he had been trying to avoid for years, and he had learned the hard way about how he could hurt others. "I'm truly sorry about that, I wasn't thinking, and you're lucky I didn't burst your eardrums with that shout." Marcus said. "Tell you what, when we get back to Haven, the Inquisition will pay for any medical treatment you may need, our healers will see to your ears, and I'll buy drinks for everybody as a peace offering?" 

Bull laughed "Sounds good to me boss." 

"You don't need to call me 'boss' Bull. I'm not actually your employer." Marcus said, Bull only shrugged. "Oh, and I feel like an ass for not doing this before when we were all together in the Storm Coast, but these are my companions. Sera, of the Friends with Red Jenny." he said gesturing to the elf sitting next to him. 

"Friends  _of_ Red Jenny" she corrected 

"Right, sorry." Marcus said "And First Enchanter Vivienne of the Imperial Court." 

"It's a delight to meet you all." Vivienne said, though Marcus could guess that she was less than delighted to be sitting by a fire in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of 'unclean' mercenaries.

"So, now that we're all together, and we've gotten that out of the way, I have an important question to ask. Do any of you happen to know how to cook?"

"Do any of us know how to cook?"

"Yeah." Sera said "None of us can cook for shite."

"Well Grim here doesn't talk much, but he's one of the best damned cooks I've ever met" Bull said, gesturing to the swordsman he ran over during the fight. Grim just grunted in response. "He can turn anything into a decent meal." 

"That's wonderful to hear darling." Vivienne said "I haven't had anything other than gruel and stale bread for weeks! You truly are a lifesaver." 

While Grim and a couple of the other Chargers got to work preparing the meal of venison, with vegetable stew, the most of the others gathered firewood to keep the cookfire burning, and the others stood guard. After an hour or so, the food was finished and both groups sat around the fire to eat. 

"Bull, you seem pretty well traveled." Marcus said "I bet you have some pretty interesting stories you could share about jobs the Chargers have done." 

"Tons. Give me a second." Bull sat, bowl in hand pondering for a moment. "Oh, I've got the perfect one. Krem, you remember that time we went giant baiting right?"

"Like I could forget THAT one, Chief." 

"Giant baiting? That doesn't sound like a smart idea."

"It wasn't." Bull said "But the guy hiring us paid too well for us to refuse."

"What happened?" 

"Well, this idiot noble wanted a giant for some big masquerade he was throwing. He had this charm or something that was supposed to hypnotize the giant or some shit. Thing is, the beast was deep inside some spider-infested cave, and the crazy bastard wanted us to lure it out to him so he could use the charm on it." he laughed "So after fighting our way through all the damned spiders we woke the thing up and got it to chase us. The problem was that we could't get too far ahead, or it might have lost interest, and we couldn't let it get too close for obvious reasons. The guys ahead did their best to clear out the spiders before we got to them, but of course the spiderwebs were a bitch to deal with, they nearly got us killed and Dalish over there lost a boot that got stuck. I think it's still sitting there in that cave."

"But you got the giant outside to the noble?" 

"Oh yeah, we got our part of the job done." Bull said "We always do."

"So, the noble got his giant and you got paid. I guess that's a happy ending."

Bull laughed "Well, not really. Turns out the charm was a fake and the giant ate the guy. But we still got paid, so it was a happy ending for the Chargers I guess." 

"So, Marcus..." Krem asked "Your name got me wondering. Are you from Tevinter?" 

"Nope." Marcus said

"Oh, alright..." Krem replied

"Krem's a Vint." Bull said

Marcus was surprised "Huh, that's funny. I can't say I'm an expert on the issue, but don't the Qunari and the Imperium... you know... not get along, like at all?" 

"You would be right on that matter." Bull said

"So how'd a Tevinter and a Qunari spy end up in the same mercenary company?" 

"It's quite the story." Bull said "You see, Krem is what we refer to in the Qun as Aqun-Athlok. He is a man who was born with the body of a woman." Marcus kept his surprise to himself.

"I joined the Tevinter military as a man by paying off the person doing physical examinations." Krem said "I was able to keep on like this for a few years until the examiner was called away on business. His replacement found out the truth and reported me, so I ran." 

"A woman joining Tevinter's army is illegal?" Marcus asked

"No, but lying on an official document is, so it was either slaver or death if I was captured." Krem replied "Eventually the authorities caught up with me in some border town, nearly killed me too if this big dumb bastard hadn't saved me." he gestured to Bull.

"Keep talking about me like that and I might change my mind and turn you in." Bull laughed "But yeah, I saw what was happening and decided to... intervene, on Krem's behalf." 

"And lost an eye doing it." Krem said "He took a flail to the face that would have killed me instead. I was beat up pretty bad after the fight, and despite nearly having his skull bashed in, this great big lummox helped me get back to health." 

"And now here we are." Bull said

"That is one hell of a story." Marcus said. "I bet neither of you expected to start your own mercenary company when you first met." 

"No, I don't think we did." Krem said.

Marcus raised his mug in a toast. "To the Chargers. May this be the beginning of a long and lasting employment where you get paid to kill our enemies for us!" 

"To the Chargers and the Inquisition!" the Chargers roared with laughter. 

Marcus finished eating and put down his plate, having finished eating his food. Bull was right, Grimm was an excellent cook, and it was good to finally be able to eat something that didn't give him stomach cramps when he finished, for which he thanked Grim, who responded with a grunt. Vivienne turned in early for the night, while everybody else stayed up for the next few hours drinking, laughing and talking. Eventually Marcus got to his feet and stretched with a yawn, he bade everybody a good night and climbed into his tent for the night, and soon enough drifted off to sleep. 

_Riften was in ruins. The once proud and strong stone walls had collapsed in numerous places, and several buildings behind them were ablaze. As the Legion marched through the gates, Marcus looked up to watch as several legionnaires tore down the crossed blades on a purple field and replaced with the red dragon on black of the Empire._

_"Spread out, look for survivors!" he ordered, the men hurrying off the comply._

_Dust and smoke filled the air, coving everything and choking anybody who breathed it in. His men wore pieces of cloth over their mouths to filter it out. Most of the homes to the immediate left of the gate had collapsed, and all the others had suffered extensive damage. The Bee and Barb was burning brilliantly. Fissures and crevasses split the ground, some running down the streets, others straight through buildings. As they pushed further into the conqured remains of the city, they finally came to the Market Square. The entire thing had collapsed into a massive sinkhole. The Temple of Mara had been split in two by a fissure and the Jarl's palace, Mistveil Keep, was a pile of rubble. Marcus observed the destruction he had wrought upon the capital of the Rift, the burning and collapsed structures, the sinkhole that used to be the marketplace, the bodies crushed under tons of fallen rubble, taking in every detail. He would never let himself forget any of this._

_A soldier shouted his name, and he turned to face him. Hadvar, his lieutenant approached him, and behind the legionnaire was a short line of surviving city guards who had laid down their weapons and surrendered. A few civilians appeared as well, climbing through the rubble of their homes and businesses, some of them he recognized. But there were so few, too few. He suspected that they would find many more bodies as his men removed the debris. The soldier and captured guardsmen finally reached him._

_"Sir!" the Hadvar with a salute, which Marcus returned. "This guardsman says that there are people in the catacombs beneath the city. Hundreds of them. They hid there to escape the bombardment from our catapults, but the tunnel collapsed when you..." he paused. "They couldn't reach them."_

_"Show us." Marcus said to the guard "Somebody might still be alive."_

_A_ _s the guard took the lead, Marcus turned to Hadvar. "Be wary, it could be an ambush."_

_"Yes Sir. You lot with us!" Hadvar shouted to a group of soldiers milling about in the wreckage, and they moved off after the guardsman into the tunnel. A legionnaire with a torch lead the way through the winding catacombs, deeper and deeper underground. The air became thick and hard to breath, and the stench of death permeated everything. Soon they came upon the cave-in._

_"Is anybody alive in there?" Hadvar shouted into the pile of stone. "We're here to help!" They waited, but there was no response._

_"Go!" Marcus ordered "Clear all of this out now!" The Legionnaires and the captured guardsmen immediately got to work, desperately trying to remove the rocks and clear a path. There had to be survivors, they couldn't all be dead. He needed for there to be somebody still alive..._

_"Legate!" one of the men said. "We can't get through the rocks are too heavy!"_

_"Move, get back down the tunnel." Marcus ordered, he turned back to the pile of debris blocking his path. "If there's anybody in there, get back from the tunnel!" he shouted "Now!" he stepped back from the blockage and inhaled. "Fus Ro Dah!"_

Marcus' eyes shot open and he jerked up out of his bed roll, panting with exertion. He wasn't watching a city burn, he was laying in his tent. A cold perspiration soaked his half-naked body. He wiped the sweat from his brow got to his feet,stretched, and pulled on a shirt, buttoning it half-way before he climbed out of his tent to where his armor and weapons lay. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well do something to pass the night instead of stare at the ceiling of his tent. He pulled up a stool, picked his sword of the ground and checked the edge. Finding it duller than he would like, he got to work with a whet stone to sharpen the blade. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching got his attention, and he looked up to see Bull's distinctive shape silhouetted by the fire walking towards him. The Qunari stopped and appraised him.

"I take it you don't sleep well." Bull said.

"No, not really." Marcus replied rubbing his eyes

"Yeah, I don't think there's been a single night I've been with you guys that you haven't gotten up in the middle of the night and stayed up 'till morning." 

"It's kind of a trend for me." Marcus paused "You know what time it is?"

"Maybe four in the morning." The Qunari shrugged, he paused, looking Marcus in the eye. "You were a soldier, weren't you? Before all this shit began." 

Marcus nodded in affirmation, staring deeply into the burning fire, images of Windhelm burning flashing in his mind. "Civil War, how could you tell?"

"I'm pretty good at reading people, and you've got the look of someone who's seen some shit. Sometimes you'll stare off at nothing, kinda like you're doing now." Marcus snapped his attention away from the fire and looked at Bull. "Plus I could hear you having a nightmare in there."  

"Nowadays, I think everybody's having nightmares. Demons, holes in the sky. I think some old war that's been over for years is the least of my concerns at the moment." 

"Obviously not if you're still losing sleep over it." 

"No offense, but it's not really something I want to talk about with you." 

"None taken. I get it, I've been there." 

Marcus stared at the Qunari for what felt like minutes, but may have been just a few seconds, but didn't say anything as his mind drew blank. Bull raised an eyebrow which snapped Marcus out of his trance. His beastblood began to act up again and he needed a distraction that wasn't talking about all the people he'd killed.

"Why don't you hit the sack Bull." Marcus said. "Like you said, I'll be up the rest of the night so I might as well keep watch."

"Alright boss." Marcus was about to correct him again but stopped himself. "I'll see you in the morning." 

"Hey Bull..." 

"Yeah boss?" 

"How do you deal with it?" Marcus asked "Deal with everything seen, and can't seem to stop seeing?" 

"Well, knowing you don't have to deal with it alone is a good start." 

The Dragonborn turned his attention back to his sword, working the edge again with his whetstone until he was satisfied that it could cut a boulder in two. Next he turned his attention to his armor, wiping all of the dust from days of travel from it until it was as clean as he could make it, even though the journey wasn't nearly over an it would likely dirty again before they returned to Haven. He just needed something to occupy his hands and his mind. Once he'd finished he cleaned it again, and then a third time as the sun began to rise, the morning birds sang, and the camp woke up.

* * *

"A raven arrived today with a letter from Marcus in the Stormlands." Leliana reported to the Inquisition's leadership, Evelyn was walking again, though with some minor difficulty, but she no longer required crutches. "He reports successfully making contact with the Bull's Chargers, and has taken them into the Inquisition's employment at significantly less cost than their usual rate. He also mentioned another group naming themselves the Blades of Hessarian. After a violent altercation with our forces, they have also sworn themselves into the Inquisition's service at Marcus' persuasion. The group maintains a strong presence on the Storm Coast will report any suspicious activity there." 

"What about this Blackwall?" Evelyn asked, leaning against the war table.

"My agents have made contact with him in the Hinterlands. He had no useful information about the disappearance of the Wardens, but he offered to join the Inquisition." Leliana replied "He should arrive at Haven within the week." 

"Is there any other news of interest?" Cullen inquired

"Yes, some time ago my scouts in the Fallow Mire went missing. When I investigated the matter, I discovered that they were captured by a tribe of Avaar who demand to meet you, Your Worship."

"Me? Why me?" she asked

"You are the Herald of Andraste. I suppose they see you as a challenge to their beliefs." the spymaster replied.

"Oh."

"We should send an expedition to the swamps immediately." Cassandra said. "Are you fit to travel, Your Worship?"

"My ankle is still a bit sore, but I think saving the lives of our people is definitely worth some mild discomfort on my part."

"Good." Cassandra said. "I will speak with Quartermaster Threnn to procure the supplies we will need for the journey later today." She turned to Leliana. "Has your investigation turned anything up?"

"Yes, and it's most intriguing. He came to Haven before the Breach as an armed escort to some Orlesian nobles who died in the explosion. I've traced his steps backwards from there and from what my agents have gathered from the people they've questioned. My people questioned a man whom he had talked to, and it's as if he appeared out of thin air near Crestwood roughly five years ago. Just walked out of the woods into a small fishing village in full suit of armor with a satchel full of strange gold coins asking where he was. From what the man remembers, he seemed confused, panicking. When asked who he was, Marcus told him that he was the survivor of a shipwreck, and had lost his memory, which we now know was a lie. He bought some food and a room at the local tavern for the night, as well as books on geography and history. The man questioned still had some of the coins which my agents procured for us." She showed them the Septim her agents had retrieved and sent back to Haven and showed it to everybody else. 

"I have never seen a coin like this one." Josephine stated when she took it. "The Empire is Law. The Law is Sacred." she read aloud before flipping the coin over. "Praise be Akatosh and all the Divines? It talks about an empire, but the coin is clearly not modern Orlesian, and who are these Divines? An obscure religious sect?"

"I was hoping you could tell us Josie." Leliana said. "Contact any archaeologists, an experts on lost civilizations you can." 

"Is there anything on him before this? Anything at all?" Cullen asked

"No, nothing. Even people with assumed identities leave a trail. Like I said, one day he just walked out of the woods."

"What has he been doing for the past five years?" Evelyn asked

"Wandering mostly, just traveling from village to village doing odd jobs during the day and drinking himself into a stupor at night. Eventually he joined an unremarkable mercenary company for a while before leaving it and moving on. He never stayed in one place long enough to form any sort of significant relationship with anybody. He's almost an urban legend, he just showed up where there was trouble, helped however he could, and left without a word."

 

"Could he be a demon in human form? Or a spirit? That might explain his powers." Cassandra asked

"No... I don't think he is." Leliana said

"Can you be sure? Perhaps we should ask Solas. If anybody would know, it would be him." 

"Everything points towards him being human. He eats, he sleeps, he ummm, you know..." Evelyn said. "You know all this, Cassandra." 

"I'm just trying to be careful." Cassandra said with a shrug "Leliana, you said he keeps a locked chest inside of his tent, do you think we should try to open it?"

"Fuck no. You know what he did to those Freemen. I'm not going anywhere near his things." Evelyn said shaking her head.

"How about we talk to him when he gets back instead of rooting through his things like barbarians?" Josephine suggested.

"We've tried. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't trust us enough to tell us where he is from." Cullen said.

"I bet it drives you insane that you can't discover all of his dirty little secrets, Leliana." Evelyn laughed

"I'm more perplexed than frustrated." 

"Well, by the time he gets back, the Herald and I will be on  our way to the Fallow Mire, so the three of you will have to find the answers to our questions. Do what you must." Cassandra said, before leaving with Evelyn to meet with Threnn to plan the voyage.

"We cannot just barge into Marcus' tent and go through his personal things." Josephine said. "We need him to trust us if we are going to get him to open up to us and that would do far more harm than good."

"I agree." Cullen said "When he gets back from the Storm Coast we should meet privately with him in the War Room."

"And explain to him why we need him to trust us." Josephine added.

* * *

A week later Marcus, Vivienne, Sera, Bull, and the Chargers arrived back in Haven. Blackwall had arrived three days before them. Cassandra, Evelyn, Varric and Solas were gone, on their way to the Fallow Mire to deal with the Avaar and rescue the missing soldiers. Bull and the Chargers immediately set off to the tavern after the journey. It was still fairly early in the day and there would be plenty of time to set up camp later. He unpacked all of his things in his tent, removed his armor and stored it on the rack beside is bed. They'd eaten a pretty large meal that morning before finishing the trip to Haven and he wasn't too hungry, so he figured he'd get his personal report to the Inquisition's leaders out of the way as quickly as possible before joining the Chargers in the tavern to buy those drinks he owed them. As he made his way up the steps he was met by Leliana in front of the Chantry doors.

"Hello Marcus, how was the voyage?"

"Uh, fine I suppose. Got the job done, so there's that. In fact, I was just coming up to give my personal report, I know I already sent a letter, but I figured you'd like to hear it from me personally."

"That can wait, there's something else we would like to speak to you about, and it would be best to get it out of the way sooner rather than later." 

"And what would that be?" 

"We will tell you in the War Room." 

"Okay..." he said giving the Spymaster a quizzical look "Lead the way, I guess." He followed her into the Chantry. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned to the woman walking beside him. "Uh, look, I just wanted to... apologize for what I said that night before I left."

"Why?"

"Well... I was... I guess I just didn't want to give any offense, that's all."

Leliana laughed "Do I seem so prudish as to take offense over a compliment?"

Marcus chuckled "No, I guess not. Just had to be sure though." he paused, stopping in the middle of the Chantry, Leliana stopped too. "I'm ashamed that I haven't asked you this yet, but, how have you been holding up with all of this? I know that you were close to Justinia, and her death must have hit you hard."

"I'm surviving." she said with a sigh "My work keeps my mind occupied most of the time, though..."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

"You can tell me." Marcus said

"I wouldn't want to bother you with my problems..."

"I wouldn't have asked if it was a bother." 

Leliana shook her head. "Justinia... Justinia dedicated her entire life in service to the Maker and her ideals. She was his most faithful servant and she was a kind, and generous person who genuinely cared about people, and yet the Maker let her die. If he would allow Divine Justinia, of all people, to be murdered like she was, does that mean that he has given up completely on our world? Does he not care about anybody? Has he abandoned us?"

He reached out to her, and when she didn't pull away, he clasped her hand between his own. "I can't pretend to know the machinations of a god, and honestly, I've never put much stock in religion, but I wanted you to know, I understand what you are going through, and if you need anything, to talk, or... anything, I'm here." 

She looked up at him, deep blue eyes staring into his pale. "I... thank you. Marcus." With a clang, the door to the War Room opened, and both of them quickly pulled their hands apart from each others.

"Ah, there you are." Josephine said. "Come, come, let us get on with this meeting." The ambassador held the door open for them as they filed into the small room. Cullen was there waiting for them. "It is once again time for us to discuss who you are and where you are from."

"How many time have we been over this?" Marcus asked, not hiding his exasperation. "With everything going on, I don't think Thedas can handle what I have to say. It could start a panic." 

"More of a panic than we are dealing with already?" Cullen asked.

"Yes." 

"Please Marcus, we have shown you every courtesy, we have put our trust in you. But trust needs to go both ways for this to work. We need you to be able to trust us." Josephine implored. Leliana procured the Septim she had acquired and handed it to Marcus, whose face remained impassive, but she thought she saw a flash of surprise in his pale blue eyes.

"Well, I see you've been busy digging." he sighed "I... it's not that I don't trust you, but if word gets out..." 

"If you are truly concerned, we will do everything we can to keep it between us." Josephine said.

Marcus groaned and looked at each of the three advisers. He shook his head and rubbed his temples. He knew that day was going to come eventually if he stayed with the Inquisition, but he'd hoped that he would have a little more warning and preparation for it. Of course he could just refuse to say anything and walk out, but that would create more problems and would only serve to delay what was inevitable. 

"Alright. Fine." he said "Find something to sit on and get comfortable, we're going to be here for a while." He stood and made for the door back into the Chantry.

"Where are you going?" Cullen asked.

"I'm just going to grab something from my tent. It should help you understand what I'm about to tell you." They let him go and he made for the tent, but not before stopping at the tavern and depositing a sack of coins with the Chargers. 

"Sorry boys, but I can't join you tonight. Inquisition business, and all that. But that doesn't mean I can't still buy drinks like I promised. I think this should be enough." 

"Not a problem, boss." Bull replied. "See you later then?" 

"Sure thing Bull." 

Marcus continued on through the gate and pushed his way into his tent and unlocked his chest where he kept all of his belongings. He pushed upon the lid and grabbed his large journal where he had written down everything of note he had done since leaving home to travel the world at the age on nineteen. He kept a map of Tamriel inside the front cover, it would be helpful for explaining locations, plus his writing would help him remember any important details he might have forgotten. Marcus pushed through the flap of his tent and made his way back up to the Chantry War Room where the others were still waiting for him. After scanning the Chantry to ensure that nobody was close enough to overhear the conversation, he pushed open the door and dropped the book down on the table. 

"Before I begin, I'm going to lay down the terms. None of what I say leaves this room. Ever. The only other people you will tell about this are Cassandra and Evelyn when they return from the Fallow Mire. If you feel that it is necessary to tell somebody other than those two, you will speak to me about it first." his gaze shifted between the three of them. "Am I understood?" They all nodded.

"Good. I guess I'll start from the beginning. If you have any questions, and I know you will, feel free to interrupt and ask them." he opened the book to the first page, pulled out the map of Tamriel, and spread it out over the table. "I was born thirty four years ago in Cyrodiil, the center province of the continent of Tamriel..." 


	13. A New Beginning

Marcus told them everything he thought they should know. He started with the geography and provinces of Tamriel, as well as a brief description of each of the sentient races found on the continent, Men, Mer and Beast. Next he gave an abridged version of Tamriel's history from the Merethic era to the current Fourth Era. If he'd told them everything he'd learned from his tutor's and on his travels, they'd be there all day. Despite this, he spent significant time on dragons and the Dragon War, because of its relevance to his particular situation. Marcus went into detail on the Dragon Crisis in Skyrim, him being Dragonborn, and what that meant, Alduin, the World Eater, and the final battle in Sovngarde.

While Marcus did talk about the Civil War and his service in the Legion, he didn't go into much detail. There was little in that pointless war that bore any repeating. Similarly to his conversation with Solas, Marcus went into detail on the nature and history of the Thu'um, but didn't get into the full extent of his power. He had experimented heavily with the Thu'um when he was younger and had even created a few entirely new shouts. The things he could do and had done still shocked and horrified even him. He'd decided that he wouldn't say anything about being able to raze cities and slaughter armies just by speaking until it was necessary, which he hoped it never would be. He didn't speak much of his personal life in Tamriel, some things were just too personal for him to share with people who were nearly strangers. As the sun began to fall low in the west, he ended the tale with the Elder Scroll and his ending up in Thedas.

"... and I found myself in this incredibly strange place. Like a mist-filled graveyard, but instead of graves it was filled with massive mirrors, taller than any man, elf, or Qunari..." he paused "Behind me was a massive mirror, even taller than all of the others, it flashed blue then went dark, I think it was the one I came through. Most of the mirrors were dark, dead, but after wandering for what felt like ages I found one that was... alive, it glowed blue like the large one. When I reached out and touched the glass I wound up in some ancient ruin in the middle of a forest. Once I was through the mirror died like all the others. After wandering around the forest for some time, I found a road and followed it to the nearest village." he chuckled, looking at the spymaster. "I'm sure Leliana already knows everything else from that point forward." he scanned the faces of each of the advisers, noting a relatively even mixture of shock, confusion, and amazement in their expressions. "Any more questions?"  

"Well..." Josephine sighed heavily "That was quite a lot to take in all at once. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to return to my quarters and try to get some sleep to relieve the throbbing headache I seem to have acquired." The Ambassador quickly turned to leave, threw open the door to the war-room and exited into the Chantry, closing it behind her.

Marcus waited, looking at Cullen and Leliana, but when neither of them said anything else he spoke up instead. "Well, I'm going to have to agree with our Ambassador. I'll give you some time to process all of this, and if you have any questions later, I'll be around. Though right now, I think I'm gonna go take a bath. I've been on the road for weeks and I'm starting to smell..."

He strolled over to the door and pushed it open and held it for Cullen who walked through muttering the breach in the sky and now people from other worlds showing and how shit was getting stranger and stranger, and about needing a drink. Leliana gave him one last look before following the commander out the door. Marcus followed them out of the Chantry into the courtyard where Leliana walked over to her tent and took a seat at her table and sat there in silence pinching the bridge of her nose in thought. Cullen continued down towards the gate of Haven and Marcus followed him. Surprisingly the Commander seemed to be heading in that direction as well. Marcus didn't remember seeing him drink at all since he'd met him. That man was about as straight laced as a man could get.

Marcus went to his tent and grabbed a clean set of clothing then strolled back up the steps into Haven and into the wooden hut designated for bathing and sat patiently waiting for the maids to draw and heat a tub of water for him. He thanked the servants and they gave him his privacy. He stripped down out of his traveling clothes and stood naked before the mirror, appraising himself. Weeks on the road left him a filthy mess and he needed a shave badly. He was starting to look like a Nord. The thought made him chuckle quietly as he made his way to the large brass tub in the middle of the room. He ran his hand to test the warmth of the water. Finding the temperature to his satisfaction, he eased himself down into the hot water with a contented sigh. Leaning back in the tub, he closed his eyes and let the sensation of the hot water wash over him. After a few minutes of just enjoying the water, he set to scrubbing the dirt and grime from his travels off of his body. He felt good, surprisingly good. Though he couldn't truly gauge how the Inquisition's advisers felt about what he had told them, finally saying it to somebody other than Solas was a relief. 

After washing his hair, Marcus got out of the grime filled tub, dried himself off and walked back over where his fresh clothes lay. He pulled on his smallclothes and breeches before going back to the mirror where he found a razor and shaving foam waiting for him. Apparently the servants thought he needed a shave too. He dabbed the foam over his face and took the razor to it, carefully shaving off the entire beard. While normally, he liked to keep a short, neat beard, he'd let it grow out too much, so he just decided he'd just get rid of it all.

When he was finished with his shave, he pulled on a shirt, a coat, and a fur cloak before venturing back out into the cold night air. Snowflakes drifted from the sky, swaying lazily in the breeze. From the tavern, he could hear laughter and loud conversation, the door flew open and the Bull's Chargers and a bunch of Inquisition soldiers came pouring out with Iron Bull in the lead. Behind him, Krem and Stitches dragged an unconscious Rocky and complaining loudly about it, Dalish and Skinner came next holding each other up and singing some song in Elvish that Marcus couldn't understand. Last came Grimm staggering behind them wordlessly, stopping just long enough to keel over and vomit in front of the door.

"Heyyyy Boshh!" Bull slurred "That ish you righ'? You look kin'a different wivout all the hair an' dirt coverin your face!"

"Yeah, it's me Bull. I take it you had fun spending all my money?" 

"U'r damn right we did!" Bull laughed "I gotta say, you Inquisition boys know how to *hic* how to party!" 

"Good to hear it, Bull." Marcus said "Welcome to the Inquisition." 

"Thanks boshh... Ish too bad you couldn' join us."

"Next time."

"Nesht time!" 

"Well... good luck getting your camp set up in your current... condition." Marcus said with a laugh

"Yeah, yeah." Bull said. "In hindshite we probably shoul' 'ave set up before getting piss your pants drunk." he started to take a step towards the gate of Haven but stopped. "Hey Bossh, is that your commander in *hic* in there? Tall guy, blonde hair, Templar?"

"Yeah... how'd you know he was a Templar?" 

"Like I *hic* shaid. I'm good at reading people." Bull laughed "He's totally fucked up. Passed out at the bar." 

"Really?! That's great, thanks Bull." Marcus said "I'll take care of it."

"Night boss."

"Good night."

He watched as the parade of drunkenness passed by him and through the gates then started to walk towards the tavern, but a feeling in his gut stopped him. He looked up the pathway towards the Chantry, towards Leliana's tent. Instead of making for the tavern for a last minute drink alone, he decided that some company would be preferable, maybe for the both of them. He climbed the steps up towards the spymaster's post.

Leliana looked up from a report she had conjured while Marcus was looking to his personal hygiene and laughed. "I almost didn't recognize you without all that hair, dirt and mud that used to cover your face."

"Funny. Bull said the same thing when I ran into him."

"I don't know about the clean shave though. That will take some getting used to."

"It'll grow back."

"Indeed." she put down the paper and folded her hands over it. "How can I help you?" 

"I was wanted to know your thoughts on what I told you. How are you taking it?"

"It... It was unexpected to say the least. I honestly still can't process everything you've told us. It's going to take some time, and once we've all taken the time we need, we'll discuss it further." she paused "Is there anything else?" 

"Actually yes. I was planning on getting a drink down at the tavern, but the place cleared out and drinking alone is kind of sad." he shrugged. "If you aren't too busy with your midnight spying, I'd invite you to join me." 

"Is this your idea of courtship, Dragonborn?" she said with a laugh "Taking a lady to a seedy tavern in the middle of the night? What a uncultured place this 'Skyrim' must be." 

"You don't know the half of it." Marcus shrugged and turned away slowly walking back down towards the tavern. "Though I suppose you are right, an ignorant foreign barbarian such as myself would never know how to woo a refined creature such as yourself." he stopped and turned back towards her with a sly smile. "Though this may be your only chance to see our esteemed Commander Cullen passed out drunk." 

She gave a small gasp "You're joking." 

"About a matter such as this? Never." 

"I don't think I've ever seen him drunk before." 

"Then how could you pass on an opportunity like this?" 

"Getting drinks with you or seeing Cullen drunk?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow.

"Both." 

"A tempting offer but..."

"Come on. It's better than sitting here alone in the snow."  

"I suppose it is." Leliana replied with a shrug. She pushed herself to her feet and walked besides Marcus back to the tavern. He gingerly stepped over the pile of partially frozen vomit courtesy of Grim, pulled the door open and held it for her then followed her inside. The place was a mess. Empty mugs and glasses were everywhere. Half the chairs and barstools were overturned. Sera was dead to the world, passed out in a corner snoring loudly. At the bar, Cullen sat with his head on the countertop, fast asleep. At least 4 empty pints sat in front of him. The barkeep, Flissa walked around the tavern, picking up the empty mugs and glasses and returning them behind the bar. Other than herself, Leliana, Marcus, and the unconscious Sera and Cullen, the bar was empty. 

"You weren't joking..." Leliana said. 

"I told you I wasn't." 

Flissa groaned when she heard them come in. "Look, the bar's closed. Come back in the mor..." she gasped when she saw who it was. "Sister Leliana! My apologies, I didn't realize it was you. I thought it was more of those Chargers coming in for a, I don't know fifteenth round or something." 

"It's quite alright, Flissa. We won't be any trouble." 

"Well, can I get the two of you anything?" 

"Wine with honey, thank you."

"And you ser?" 

"I'll take the same." The two of them took their seats at the table near the fireplace that had the fewest drink spills on it. Flissa came by with a flagon of wine and two glasses. Marcus poured for both of them then set the flagon off to the side. "You don't have to wear your hood up everywhere you go. It's not like you're trying to hide your identity from anybody here." he said with a laugh.

Leliana shrugged and pushed back the hood from her head. "Well, the Chargers have made quite the impression." Leliana stated "They haven't been here for even a day and they've already ruined our tavern." she took a sip from her glass.

"Yeah, they're a good bunch of guys." Marcus said. He heard Flissa scoff. "So, how do you two know each other?" 

"Flissa used to work in an inn in Denerim." Leliana said "She would pass on any useful gossip she heard to me." 

"I've always wanted to own my own place, and Sister Leliana made an offer I couldn't refuse. So now here I am, running a tavern for the Inquisition." Flissa said while cleaning a glass with a rag. 

"So, have you always been a spy?" Marcus asked "How did you end up as Left Hand of the Divine and the spymaster for the Inquisition? What's your story?"

"It's a long story, I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me drone on." 

"I'm not going anywhere, and I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested." 

She sighed "Very well. I was born to a Ferelden mother in service to an Orlesian noble, Lady Cecilie Vasseur. My mother died when I was very young and Lady Vasseur raised me. When I turned sixteen, I traveled with her to Val Royeaux where I met Marjolaine, she saw something in me and started to train me as a Bard, and I was pretty good at it if I say so myself." 

"What a coincidence." Marcus said "I used to be a bard too. I studied at the bard's college in Solitude, learned to play the lute and drums, and read poetry. Just don't ask me to sing." 

Leliana laughed "I think our bards and your bards are somewhat different. Orlesian bards do all of those things, but we also spy, manipulate, and assassinate."

Marcus shook his head. "Of course you do. How could one expect anything else from Orlais?" 

Leliana ignored that comment. "Things went... poorly with Marjolaine and I found myself in a bad situation, but Divine Justinia, though she was just Revered Mother Dorothea then helped me. I found the Maker, quit the life of a Bard and joined the Chantry. But then the Fifth Blight began and I joined the Hero of Ferelden in his quest to save the world." she paused, sighing sadly. "We became very close, more than just friends, but then he gave his life to kill the Archdemon and end the Blight. Only a Grey Warden can permanently kill and Archdemon, and he refused to let Allistair strike the final blow. He always was such selfless person, putting the good of others before his own."

"I understand the meaning of loss." Marcus said, he reached out and took her hand in his own. "You have my deepest sympathies, and if you don't want to say anymore, I won't ask you to." By now, Flissa had finished picking up the room and cleaning the dirty glasses and mugs. Without a word, she left the tavern to retire for the night.

"Thank you, and it's alright to ask. You're the first person to ask, and it actually feels good to be able to talk to somebody about all of this." 

Marcus nodded. "What happened after the Blight?" 

"Dorothea was elected as Divine and became Justinia V. Knowing my history as a Bard, she asked me to become her Left Hand. I owed her everything, so naturally I accepted." 

"And now you are spymaster for the Inquisition?"

"And now I am spymaster for the Inquisition." she looked at him, gently pulling her hand out of his. "I am curious though. What do you see with me? Why do you care to ask?"

Marcus laughed sheepishly "I guess I could ask the same question of you. Unlike almost everybody else, you weren't afraid to talk to me, you taught me how to play chess, and you were concerned about me getting hurt. It might... it might not sound like much, but those chess matches meant everything to me. It made me not feel so alone anymore. They made those first few weeks stuck in Haven bearable, just by giving me somebody to spend time with without them pissing their pants in fear."  

Leliana laughed "Fair enough, but you came to me. Why me?"

"I guess it was because you were the only person who seemed as lonely as I was." Marcus laughed. 

"Oh?" she said, eyebrow arched again. 

"Yes, it wasn't that hard to tell. You were buried in your work all day, every day. You took your meals in your tent. You never spent time with anybody other than your agents, unless it was a war-room meeting. It wasn't hard for me to realize that you needed a friend." Marcus paused "What I said that night before I left for the Storm Coast wasn't actually the drink talking. You are beautiful, and you are incredibly smart, and clever, and witty. You have a good heart and you care about all people. You don't deserve to be alone."

Without a word, Leliana pushed back her seat stood and crossed over to the opposite side of the table. She took Marcus' face in her hands and leaned down, he could smell the honeyed wine on her breath, closing her eyes as she pressed her lips to his. Marcus made a surprised gasp, but didn't pull away, letting himself be enveloped by the kiss. He heard a slight stirring from behind him where Sera lay passed out, but didn't break away. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before Leliana broke the kiss, staring deeply into his eyes. Marcus' face was beet red. 

"Thank you." she said breathlessly

"I... uh, you're... you're welcome." Marcus stammered.

"I think I'm starting to like the clean shave." Leliana said with a smile. A sudden loud snore broke their gaze and they looked over at the bar where Cullen still lay unconscious.

"I, uh... I guess we should get our esteemed commander back to his quarters then." Marcus said

"Hmm? Oh yes, of course." she stepped back and let Marcus stand, then followed him over to Cullen, he shook the man, trying to wake him up, but he only groaned in his sleep. "What about Sera?" she said, gesturing to the elf, who had shifted into a different position, but still appeared to be passed out.

"It's alright to leave her. She usually stays in here during the nights anyways, and the fire will keep her warm." he looked down at Cullen. "I'd dump some water on him to wake him up, but it's probably freeze on him when we stepped outside." Marcus said. 

"Do you think we could carry him?" Leliana asked. Marcus was large, and very heavily muscled, but the former Templar wasn't exactly petite himself, in addition, he still wore his armor. 

"I think I can handle it." Marcus replied "Stand back a little." she took a couple steps back, Marcus inhaled and shouted "Mul!" he was instantly surrounded by ethereal dragon armor brilliantly glowing in blues yellows, and oranges. Turning back to the commander, he lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Leliana walked ahead and pushed open the door for them and Marcus ducked through, careful not to accidentally smack the commander's head against the doorframe. They walked together towards the commander's sleeping quarters, garnering odd looks from the occasional night watchman, though the sight of a large, glowing man carrying the commander of the Inquisition's forces on his shoulder was certainly an odd sight to behold. Once they got there, Marcus laid him down on his bed, and they got to work unclasping the buckles and laces holding his armor on and removed it piece by piece. They left the rest of his clothes on and left him to sleep in peace.

They stood outside of the Commander's quarters as the snow continued to fall, their breaths coming out as small white puffs of steam in the freezing night air. "I want to thank you for tonight, Marcus." Leliana said. "You were right. I was losing myself in my work, and I alienated myself from the other people in the Inquisition. Justinia's death hurt me more than I realized. So again, thank you and I hope we can do this again."

"I would enjoy that." She walked up to him and stood tall on her tip-toes, to give him another, quick kiss on the lips.

"Good night."

"You too, Leliana, you too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout Index  
> Mul - Strength - Dragon Aspect


	14. Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part has been rewritten. Other flashback chapters will be changed as well.

_The tent was dimly lit by candles, outside the howling wind blew across the plains, whistling through their camp like angry spirits as rain poured from the clouds. The two of them sat, huddled in the shelter, his shirt had been stripped off and she was worrying over his left shoulder which was already beginning to blacken and swell with a massive bruise around a nasty red wound. The axe had bitten deeply into his shoulder, punching straight through his Steel Plate pauldrons, into his muscle and flesh, but by the mercy of the gods had stopped before reaching bone._

_"What in Oblivion were you thinking Marcus?!"  she scolded as she bathed his bloody arm in the golden glow of restoration magic, pushing a lock of her raven black hair out of her eyes. "That blow could have split your head open!"_

_"I was thinking better I take the hit than you." he replied. "In case you hadn't noticed, I wear quite a bit more armor than you do."_

_"But it could have killed you." she protested, glancing up at his face from her work on his shoulder. "You're lucky that you didn't lose that arm."_

_"And it definitely would have killed you." Marcus retorted "That's what my armor is for. So I can take the hits and you don't have to."_

_"You shouldn't have had to!" she said, nearly shouting. "I would have handled it!"_

_"Would have handled it?!" Marcus replied, his own temper flaring. "You didn't see the fucking bandit coming! You were standing there with your fucking head up your ass, and if I hadn't knocked you out of the way, his axe would have split you in half!"_

_"I would have handled it!" she snapped, stopping the healing "Why do you always have to be the big hero? You always have to solve everybody's problems yourself. Is it because you don't trust anybody? Nobody other than you can do anything right?"_

_"As a matter of fact, you're right, I don't trust anybody to handle anything. This entire gods damned country is a fucking mess, and who does everybody call to solve their fucking problems? ME!" He was shouting now, in spite of the pain in his shoulder. "I've saved the fucking world TWICE now and ended that stupid fucking Civil War practically on my own."_

_"WE saved the world, you insufferably arrogant son of a bitch!" her green eyes flared with a burning fury. "Or did you forget that I was there during that whole fucking affair? It wouldn't surprise me since the only thing you consider worth your attention is you, the 'High and Mighty' Dragonborn!"_

_"Don't start with that shit! I didn't choose to be Dragonborn, I didn't choose to have the burden of saving Nirn from something called the World Eater! I've sacrificed everything for these idiots and I haven't asked for ANYTHING in return."_

_"That hasn't stopped you from abusing your power however you like. Just look at what you did to Riften...!" She tried to stop herself, but it was too late. She had said it and there was no taking it back. "I... Marcus, I'm so sorry."_

_Marcus shook his head, the anger gone in a flash, his face now contorted in pain, both physical and emotional nearly palpable. "You've done everything you can for the shoulder. Let's... let's just get some rest, see how it is in the morning."  with a grunt, he leaned over and blew out the candles._

_Marcus awoke in the early hours of morning. The rain and wind had finally stopped their torrent, but the sun still hadn't risen and the tent was still too dim to see clearly but he could immediately tell that he was alone in the tent. His heart nearly lept out of his chest, she wouldn't have just left him there because of that argument last night... would she? He sat up too quickly, jostling the wounded shoulder, making him hiss in pain. He carefully pulled on a shirt and a pair of breeches, which were a pain to button up with only one usable hand. He pushed through the flap of the tent and looked around. There was a glow on the horizon to the East as the sun began to rise. Even in the low light, he could see a herd of mammoths strolling across Whiterun's plains in the distance, their Giant caretakers keeping a watchful gaze upon them._

_He sighed with relief and laughed at his own worries when he found her sitting twenty feet away from the tent facing the sunrise, arms folded across her midriff. She watched the sun beginning to rise above the horizon. The rays reflected off of her hair, and gave the appearance that she was glowing. She loved the sunrise, and would wake up in the waning hours of night so that she wouldn't miss it. It had been that way ever since she became human again._ _Marcus sighed and walked over, taking a seat next to her._

_"Good morning."_

_"Morning... I thought I'd let you sleep in today."_

_"You aren't still angry with me, are you?"_

_"No, but I was never really angry with you." she sighed "How's the arm?"_

_"Frankly, it's not feeling much better."_

_She scoffed, "Well sorry, but I'm not much of a healer. I did what I could."_

_"I know."_

_"I'm sorry I brought up Riften. I never should...."_

_"Don't." Marcus said tersely. "Just don't." There was a period of silence between them as they watched the sun climb higher into the sky, only broken by the chirping of birds in the sky and the occasional trumpeting of the mammoth herd._

_"You were right..." she said, without looking at him. "I had my head up my ass, and if it weren't for you I would be dead."_

_"I'm sorry... what?"_

_"You were right..."_

_"Could you repeat that one more time? A little louder?" he said with a wicked smile._

_"Shut up." she laughed, punching him in his uninjured shoulder._

_"Ow! Are you trying to break my other arm now? Isn't forcing me to take an axe to the shoulder enough?"_

_She laughed again, but the smile quickly dropped from her face and her eyes darkened. "For a moment, right after he hit you, I thought you were dead." she shuddered "I've never been so scared, or angry in my life... I felt like my heart had been torn out of my chest. Y_ o _u saved my life and how did I react? By turning that anger, my fear, and my pain against you. You nearly died, and I don't know what I would do if you had."  she sighed, looking up at him through eyes beginning well with tears. "You are all I have, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I almost killed the only person that matters to me."_

_Marcus couldn't bring himself to take his eyes away from her. She was indescribably beautiful. The glow from her smile was as brilliant as a thousand auroras. Seeing her like this made his heart ache with yearning. With the need to comfort her, to see her smile again. He would suffer a thousand battle wounds for her sake without a moment's hesitation. She meant the world to him and he needed to show her._

_"You don't need to apologize to me Serana." Marcus told her in a low, steady tone "I made a promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe, and I will be damned to Oblivion if I don't keep it."_

_"What have I ever done to deserve that from you?" She asked, her eyes pleading with him for the truth. Marcus took a deep breath and told her._

_"When we met in that cavern... I... I wasn't in a good place in my life. There was a lot I needed to answer for, and a lot of guilt weighing me down after the things I did during the war. I was angry, and I know I didn't make things easy for you in those first few months. The way I treated you because of my own self disgust was inexcusable. By all rights you should have hated me. You should have gone your own separate way once we..." he paused, not wanting to bring up Harkon by name "Once we finished what needed to be done. But you didn't. You helped me get back on my feet. Helped to give me a new purpose in life."_

_She gave a small, nervous chuckle "Is that all?"_

_"No. Not quite." he smiled "You are one of the strongest people I know. You're fierce and brave, and driven. But also compassionate, gentle and understanding." Before he could think, before he could take a moment to contemplate what he was about to confess, the words tumbled from his mouth like a rock-slide. "And I honestly can't believe it took me this long to realize that I am completely in love with you."_

_Serana's eyes shot wide open, and her mouth hung agape. "You... you are?"_

_He felt his heart leap up into his throat when he realized what he had just told her. It was the truth. He didn't know how long ago he had realized it, but it was the truth, and he had to own it. For her. He swallowed, looked her in the eye and nodded. "I am. I love you, Serana."_

_"Oh." was all she managed to say through her wide eyed stare "Oh..."_

_Things weren't the same between them after that day. Serana became distant, they spoke rarely and it seemed like she could never look him directly in the eye on the occasions that they did speak. She would lose herself in her thoughts completely, doing her tasks around camp more by muscle memory than anything else. Marcus wanted nothing more than to talk to her about what he had confessed to her. He needed a response, an answer that she had thus far declined to give him, but he knew it was a lot to put on her at once. She needed time and he would give it to her. Deep down inside he was terrified that he had ruined what they shared together with his admittance. He hoped to the gods that his fears were unwarranted, that she reciprocated his feelings, or in the very least that things between them could return to the way they had been before. But as the days dragged on, the feelings of doubt began to grow in his mind._

_A few days later, they were camped out in Falkreath Hold. They had just left the town early in the morning after taking care of a spriggan infestation that had been attacking travelers on the road from a nearby ruined watchtower. Their next stop was Markarth, where Marcus would deposit the sum of septims he carried into his account at the Silver Blood bank and hopefully find more work. Around noon, Marcus left camp to set a few snares in hopes of catching dinner for the evening. Once the snares had been placed and baited, he returned to camp to find Serana packing all of her belongings into her traveling pack._

_"You're leaving." It wasn't a question._

_She looked up to him from where she knelt. A pained expression crossing her face. "I am."_

_"Is this about what I said?" he asked "I shouldn't have put that on you like that. It was a lot at once, and I'm sorry. But you don't need to go. I don't want you to go."_

_Serana stood up and walked over to him "It's not you Marcus." she sighed "Everything in my life has changed. I have changed, the world has changed and I don't know my place in it anymore. I don't recognize who I am anymore."_

_"So you're just going to run? That isn't you Serana. And what about me? I poured my heart out to you and you haven't given me so much as a word in response." he stepped closer, placing his hand over his heart "There has to be something there between us. I know there is."_

_"I don't know what we have between us." she snapped, but quickly averted her eyes to gaze at something beyond the treeline. "I don't know how I feel. I don't know if it's right that I should feel. I don't know if I would deserve it if I do."_

_"Of course you deserve happiness in your life." he told her. "Even if that can't be found with me, I want nothing more than to help you find it. I owe you that much."_

_She smiled solemnly. Not the brilliant ray of light that put the sunrise itself to shame, but full of sadness and pain."I know you do. But not this time. I need to do this alone." she shook her head "I'm confused Marcus, I'm lost and more than a little scared. I need to discover what it means to live in this world on my own, and to find out what it finally means to be my own person. My entire life I've lived under somebody else's shadow, always doing as somebody else has told me and now I have to discover what I need, what I want. I can't do that with you holding my hand along the way."_

_Marcus gave a small nod of understanding. He didn't want her to leave. Gods know he didn't want to see her go. But it was her choice to make, not his. This was what she needed. She was certain of that, and he trusted her judgment, trusted that she knew what was best for her. He wouldn't make her decision any harder on her by selfishly arguing. "Where will you go?"_

_"I don't know yet." she gave a small laugh that simply did not have her heart in it. "I suppose I'll simply follow wherever the wind takes me."_

_Marcus nodded again. "I suppose there's no way of talking you out of this? At least stay the night. You can leave in the morning while you're rested."_

_"No, this isn't getting any easier to do, and I really should leave now, so that I reach Falkreath before nightfall. But don't think this is goodbye." she smiled again, a little brighter "I just need time, and when I am ready, I'll find you."_

_"Only if I don't find you first." he chuckled and glanced over at the tent. "Don't go just yet." Without another word, he ducked inside the tent and rifled through his bag until he found a large cloth sack full of septims. When he went back outside, Serana was still waiting expectantly. "Take this." he said, holding out the coin purse toward her._

_"Marcus, I couldn't..."_

_"I insist. Let's be honest. You're a shit hunter and I'm keeping our only tent." he smiled, and took her wrist to place the pure directly in her hand. "This should be enough to buy you a few meals and a couple of nights in a tavern."_

_She nodded and her fingers closed around the cloth. She abruptly pulled Marcus into a tight hug, and buried her face into his shoulder. A warmth flowed through his body that he only felt when she was close to him and he took a moment to relish the feeling."Thank you." she murmured, as Marcus' arms closed around her in a loving embrace. "For everything."_

_"You have no need to thank me for anything." Marcus told her as she released him from their embrace "Just be sure to watch yourself out there. Keep your eyes open for danger, and a stranger approaches you and offers to sell you skooma, just politely say no and move on."_

_"I'll take that into consideration. Can I trust you to stay out of trouble while I'm gone?" She asked._

_"Probably not."_

_She sighed and shook her head before dropping down to hoist her pack up and over her shoulders. "I should know better by now than to expect anything else from you. But please, promise that you will take care of yourself for me while I'm gone, will you?"_

_"Always."_

  _* * *_

The morning after his visit to the tavern, Marcus found himself standing on the old wooden dock that extended part way across the large frozen pond sitting at the foot of Haven gazing eastward, watching the sunrise like he had done so countless times with in Tamriel. It was a particularly cold day, with a freezing wind that bit any piece of exposed flesh with an icy bitterness that would lead to frostbite if left uncovered for long. He watched as his breaths came out in white puffs in the frigid air. It was the perfect sort of day to sit before a roaring fire, in the comforting arms of a lover, or warm yourself in the tavern while drinking and sharing stories with old friends. But the rest of Haven was still asleep except for the few guards who kept watch overnight. 

Another gust of wind Marcus pulled his fur cloak more tightly around his body. He heard footsteps approaching him from behind, familiar. Without turning, he spoke to the person intruding on his solitude. "What are you doing up so early?" 

"I could ask you the same." Leliana said, continuing towards him until she stood by his side. 

"I couldn't sleep. Figured I'd rather watch the sunrise than stare up at the canopy of my tent for the next few hours." he looked down at her standing next to him and saw that she still wore her usual chainmail tunic with her hood up. "You can't be warm wearing just that. Why didn't you put on something warmer?" 

"I can manage. Thank you." She claimed, unconvincingly, but the next gust of wind made her shiver and Marcus could hear her teeth chattering from the cold. He shook his head, and unwrapped the cloak from around his shoulders, before moving to drape it over hers.

"No, thank you, but I'm alright."

Marcus rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. "Just take the damn thing." Despite her previous outspoken reluctance, she accepted it without another complaint and pulled it tightly around her body, though it was far too large for her. She looked at him and blinked, underneath the cloak, he wore a fur coat, but she doubted that it was enough for him.

"But what about you?"

"I can manage." he replied with a teasing smile. "I did spend almost a decade of my life in a frozen wasteland that make the Frostbacks seem like the Arbor Wilds, after all." 

Leliana huffed disbelievingly and looked up at him with a skeptical raised eyebrow. 

"Okay, I'll admit that was a bit of an exaggeration, but I'm used to the cold... really." he paused thoughtfully. "You still haven't told me what you're doing up so early."

She groaned. "I've been awake for a few hours. One of my agents got back in the early morning with an issue that needed my immediate attention." 

"Anything I can help with?"

"No." she said abruptly. "I appreciate the offer, but I have already handled the matter." 

"Sooo... I'm guessing that this wasn't what you came to see me for?" 

"I umm... well, no, it wasn't. One of the watchmen came and told me she saw you wander off alone, so I came to find you so we could speak privately." she sighed "I... wanted to apologize, for last night." 

"Why?" Marcus asked "It was just a kiss."

"It was unprofessional. I let my personal feelings get the better of me, and I won't let it happen again." 

"Unprofessional?" Marcus scoffed

"Yes." Leliana said sadly "I don't know if you want something more... serious, but I can't give it to you. We are doing important work here, and it needs as much time and attention as I can give it. The Inquisition has no allies, the Breach isn't closed, and we still don't know who created it, and killed the Divine." 

"But you said..."

"I know what I said, and I was wrong." she paused "I need you to understand. You are a good person, and I care about you. But Thedas must come first." 

"Leliana. If you don't want any sort of committed relationship with me, that's fine, I won't try to press one on you. But speaking to you as a friend, you can't spend every waking second of your life buried in your work. You need to lighten up, live a little bit. What's the point of devoting yourself entirely to saving the world if you won't enjoy the good things it has to offer?" 

She stood there in silence beside him watching the sun begin to rise through the sky, unsure of what to say. Eventually Marcus broke the silence. "Think about it, alright. You can't spend the rest of your life playing some game of intrigue and strategy. I can tell you this from personal experience. Enjoy life, find happiness wherever you can, live for the good things, or you will resent it. Don't come to regret all the things you've made yourself miss." 


	15. Lots of talking

Leliana left him alone with his thoughts soon after that, without saying another word to him. For a while he decided to stay there, feeling the warmth from the sun on his body as it rose in the sky, chasing away the freezing early morning air. Serana had loved the sunrise. After she was cured of her centuries of vampirism, she had wanted to spend every second of daylight enjoying the comfort and warmth that it gave. He had treasured those moments as more than any fortune of gold, just to be able to sit with her in the peace and quiet, to forget about all the troubles of the world and find solace in her company. For a time he lost himself in his melancholy, reminiscing on the past. Soon Haven began to wake up. He could hear the new recruits gathering in the yard before the settlement. Cullen and his Templar lieutenants began barking orders as they began early morning drills. The clang of metal could be heard from farther off as Harritt and his assistants got to work forging weapons and armor for the men of the Inquisition. He shook himself from his thoughts, realizing that he should probably find something useful to do with his time. 

He turned back towards the settlement with the hopes that somebody would have some sort of task for him. He looked over at the men drilling in the yard, Cullen looked positively miserable, probably feeling the full effects of last night, he could hear the man groan as he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the rising sun. Despite the amount of time he'd been with the Inquisition, as in, longer than most, and his actions in service to the cause, which were more than most, some of the older recruits still gave him looks as he passed, regarding him with a cold, thinly veiled suspicion and distrust. They believed that he was an apostate, trying to hide in plain sight, passing himself off as a warrior, and in this world, he sort of was. Apart from the Thu'um, he had learned a few spells during his time in High Rock, taught by his host, an old wartime friend of his father's and an accomplished Breton mage, when there was little else to do. Though he never used them. He had magic and so he was hated by those who did not understand it. The fear was beginning ebb away while the suspicion wasn't.  The Templars serving under Cullen were even worse, with their heavily indoctrinated hatred of anything magic. While the Commander had forbidden them for harassing the Inquisition's mages, Marcus included, but that didn't stop the not so subtle whispers behind his back when Cullen was there, insults to his face when when he wasn't, "accidental" shoves when they walked past each other. Sooner or later, he feared they would try something stupid.  

As he was about to pass through the gateway, he heard a hardy laugh and a gruff voice address him with familiarity, from behind. "Maker's balls! It really is you." Marcus turned to see a heavily built man with dark hair and a thick beard approaching him. He had never seen the man before in his life. 

"I'm sorry..." he looked at the man quizzically "Have we met?"  

"You don't remember me? Not surprising really, you were piss drunk and with a bad concussion when we met, after all." he extended a hand towards Marcus in greeting. "Warden Blackwall." 

Marcus grasped his hand firmly and shook. "Marcus." he paused "When did we meet? Obviously I don't remember." 

"It was what? Three... three and a half years ago?" Blackwall paused, trying to remember the details.

"How do you remember something from so long ago?"

"You left quite an impression. It's not everyday you meet a human the size of a Qunari. I found you in a tavern drunk out of your mind and in the middle of a brawl with three thugs who were causing trouble."

"Did I win?"

Blackwall laughed "Not even close. I was being generous when I called it a brawl, it was more of a beatdown. You were too drunk to stand up straight, let alone fight three men and when I came inside, they had you pinned to the ground on your back while two of them kicked you in the ribs and one sat on your chest punching you in the face."

"Oh..."  

"Yeah... I chased the bastards off and the innkeeper and I dragged you and your belongings over to the local healer to get him to look at you. Inkeep told me you were a drifter who had just come into town the day before and the guys I found beating the shit out of you were some local bullies always causing problems. They were trying to stir shit up in the tavern that night and you told them to fuck off." 

"I think it's all starting to come back to me. The beating that is." Marcus laughed.

"The healer told us you had three cracked ribs, a concussion, and a broken nose. Luckily for you, they didn't knock any of your teeth out. Probably would have been worse if they hadn't been almost as drunk as you were." 

"Probably. So, what was a Grey Warden doing in some random tavern?" Marcus asked.

"I'm a recruiter. I travel alone through Ferelden looking for anybody who might be Warden material. Or at least I used to before joining the Inquisition."  

"Did I strike you as Warden material?" Marcus joked with a laugh

"Maybe not in your... previous state of inebriation, but I saw something in you, perhaps you reminded me of myself before I joined the Wardens. Alone, nowhere to belong to, nobody to belong with, no true purpose in life. The Wardens give people a higher calling. They take all comers, high and low, they make you more than what you are, who you are." 

"What made you think I didn't belong anywhere?"

"People who belong somewhere don't wander the countryside trying their damned hardest to drink themselves into an early grave." 

"I suppose you're right... So... what happened?"

"I tried asking you your name, but you just slurred some nonsense I couldn't understand, and vomited on my boots before passing out." Blackwall laughed. "I decided to stay in the inn for the night, talk to you in the morning when you were hopefully less drunk. But I overslept, and by the time I woke up, you were already gone."

"With a broken nose, three cracked ribs, a concussion and most likely a horrific hangover?" Marcus asked in shock. "How in Oblivion don't I remember that day? Well, at least it wasn't as bad as the night I went out drinking with Sangui..." Marcus realized he was saying something he probably shouldn't and stopped himself, faking a cough.

"Drinking with who?" 

"Nothing, nobody." Marcus quickly replied dismissively clearing his throat.

"Right, that's not at all suspicious..." the Warden regarded him, eyebrow cocked. "Well it seems you've sobered up at least, found purpose in life. I saw you come in with that band of mercenaries yesterday. You working with them?"

"Oh, no, I'm not with the Chargers. I serve in the Inquisition."

"Really. How'd you end up joining?"

"I was in Haven when the Temple exploded." Marcus explained "Figured I'd just stick around, help out however I can." 

"So you found your higher calling after all." Blackwall said with a chuckle. 

"It seems like it. Well, allow me to welcome you to the Inquisition, Warden Blackwall." 

"Thanks."  

"What do you make of our merry band of misfits and heretics so far?" 

"Don't know about the heretics part, but from what I can see, you misfits are doing right by people, 'Us' misfits, I should say. Taking up the sword and making a difference while the Chantry cannot. As long as the Inquisition stays on this path, you will have my loyalty and support."

"I'm glad to hear it, we'll do our best." Marcus said lightheartedly. 

"Well, I've taken enough of your time. I'll let you get back to your business." Blackwall remarked. 

"It was good meeting you..." Marcus started "Well, you know... actually remembering meeting you this time." Blackwall nodded and they parted ways. The Warden went back out the way Marcus had come in strolling towards the practice dummies in the training yard. Marcus continued up towards the Chantry. He spotted Leliana speaking to one of her agents, still wrapped up in the fur cloak Marcus had given her. It was comically oversized on the Orlesian spymaster, giving the impression of a hairy cocoon with a head popping out of the top. The mental image made him chuckle to himself as he passed by, but what Leliana said made him stop in his tracks. 

"You know what must be done. Make it clean. Painless, if you can. We were friends once." she said coldly, sadly shaking her head.

"Hold on." Marcus interjected "Who are you having killed?" 

"A traitor." Leliana replied, turning to face him. "Butler, a rogue Inquisition agent who killed Farrier, one of my best operatives. Worse, he knows where many of my other agents are." 

"Don't be so hasty to pass a death sentence on him." Marcus said

"You find fault in my decision? I condemned one man to save dozens. I might not like what I do, but it must be done. I cannot afford the luxury of ideals at a time like this." 

"Just killing the man is a waste. We should bring him in. Question him. He knows things that we do not. We can find out why he turned and who turned him. Knowing our enemy is half the battle, after all." Marcus explained "Then we can pass judgment on him as is fitting to the crime."

"What if he escapes and gets word to our enemies? His betrayal puts dozens of agents at risk. Or what if we do capture him and he won't talk? Butler is highly skilled in resisting interrogation, torture might not loosen his tongue."

"Somebody convinced, or perhaps blackmailed him into betraying the Inquisition. Besides, I can get him to talk. Do whatever  you can to get him to me alive and he will tell us everything we need to know from him."

"But what if he lies?"

"He won't." Marcus glanced up at the Inquisition spy, who was nervously watching the two of them converse.

She shook her head and sighed, turning towards her agent. "Apprehend Butler, but see that he lives." The man nodded and hastily sped off to complete the task. Leliana looked up at Marcus and gave a small chuckle. "I hope you aren't getting soft on us." The two of them watched as a gaggle of Chantry Sisters emerged from the stone building, chatting quietly amongst themselves, they noticed Marcus and Leliana watching them and picked up the pace, moving at a near jog down towards the gate, leaving the two of them alone once again.

"Hardly. I just want to know why he murdered Ferrier. If it was just for money, or power, or just to save his own hide, I'll take his head myself." Marcus sighed. "You said he was your friend once. This couldn't have been easy for you."

"We met when we were both Bards in the Orlesian court. We worked closely together many times."

"And despite this you decided to have him killed without hesitation." 

In my line of work you can't let personal feelings influence your decisions. You need to steel yourself for what needs to be done." she paused, fixing him with her gaze, pulling the cloak more tightly around herself. "You don't even know Butler, why did you care about what happens to him?" 

"Partly because, like I said, we need to know who, or what made him betray us. But also because I know what it's like to be condemned without being given a chance to defend myself." Marcus replied "Everybody deserves a fair trial at least." 

"Alright, once Butler has been apprehended, he's yours. Once we have learned all we can from him, the Inquisition's leadership will decide an appropriate punishment for his betrayal." Leliana said with a sigh.

Marcus nodded. "I'll leave you to your work then... unless there's anything else you'd like to discuss?" 

"No, thank you. There are a number of other reports that need my attention at the moment. If I need your assistance with anything, I'll be sure to let you know, but right now, I don't."

"Very well." Marcus said with a shrug. He was about to turn away, head back down towards the tavern, maybe find some food when a voice from the Chantry called out to him.

"Marcus, my dear, may I have a word if you please?" Vivienne. Leliana looked up from her stack of papers that she had been shuffling through, her gaze shifted from Marcus to the First Enchanter and back to Marcus, who had turned to face Vivienne, then back to the papers. 

"Of course, Madame de Fer, I have a moment." 

He strolled into the Chantry, following Vivienne past a group of chatting Sisters who gave him a wide berth as he passed them. The First Enchanter sat down in a comfortable looking chair in the small alcove against the wall where she spent much of her time. The others in the building gave them plenty of room, and there would be nobody close enough to eavesdrop. She crossed her leg over her other knee, and motioned to the smaller, shorter, far less elegant wooden chair that sat a few feet to the left of her own. "Please, sit darling, make yourself comfortable." Between the two chairs sat a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

"Thank you." Marcus said, easing himself down onto the seat. The wood creaked under his weight as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position in the chair that was far too small for a man of his size. 

Vivienne motioned towards the bottle. "Would you like a glass?" 

"No, thank you." Marcus replied "What was it you wished to discuss?" 

"You, my dear." she poured for herself.

"Ah, my favorite subject." Marcus said with a halfhearted laugh, but the Iron Lady seemed less than impressed at the bad joke.

"Quite." she leaned forward "As I am sure you can imagine, I am a very well connected woman. After I joined the Inquisition, I had my people investigate everybody in its inner circle."

"Naturally." Marcus said, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. "It's wise to learn how best to exploit potential allies for your own benefit. I wouldn't expect anything less from a individual such as yourself." He'd met enough of her kind to know how she operated and what she was after, none quite as attractive, which certainly would give her another edge in the Game, but otherwise the alike.

"You wound me, my dear. My intentions for joining the Inquisition were nothing but benevolent." she said, feigning offense and shock at his accusation, though she tried, but couldn't hide the venom in her tone from him. She wasn't a woman accustomed to being spoken to in such an honest and blunt manner. "I only wish to see the Breach closed and order restored." 

"Of course, my sincerest apologies, Madame de Fer. I let my suspicious nature get the better of me." he replied with the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "So, what was it that you discovered from these investigations? Any interesting gossip?" 

"The reports were hand delivered to me last evening after we returned from the Storm Coast, and I spent much of the night reading their contents while you were occupied pining over Sister Leliana." If she was trying to get a reaction out of him, she failed. He hadn't exactly been trying to hide his interest, and the flirting between them had been fairly open until she had turned him down this morning.

"There weren't many surprises, and my people were thorough in the details on everybody but yourself and Solas. I expected little on Solas, as he has admitted to apostacy, and has spent most of his life wandering the wilderness like a barbarian, but you were a surprise. There was nothing about your heritage, your family, where you are from, or your power." she took a delicate sip from the wine. "You have magic, this much is obvious, but there are no records of you being part of any of the Circles of Magi before they fell, and you are not from the Tevinter Imperium, as you have stated yourself. This makes you, by Chantry definition, an apostate."

"Yes, I suppose it does." Marcus replied nonchalantly. "I hope that it won't be a problem."

"As long as you do not threaten the balance of Thedas and act to throw it into further chaos, or become possessed by a demon, you and I shall have no problems at all. I was simply curious as to how you came about this power. I have studied every piece of magical lore at my disposal, from modern magical practices, to the ancient Tevinter Imperium, and even some of the magics used by the ancient elves before the Imperium destroyed them. I admit that my knowledge on their magics is lacking, as much of their lore has been lost to the ages, I have found nothing. While there are spells that are cast verbally, there are none quite like what you are capable of. So, how could an apostate, with no formal Circle training learn a completely unknown power with perfect control over his abilities?"  

"I suppose it's a mystery that you shall never know the answer to." Marcus said with a shrug. "But don't be too hard on yourself. Leliana couldn't find much about me either, and I imagine she has quite a few more connections than you do." 

"No doubt." She replied, the venom returning. "How do she and the others in the Inquisition leadership feel about this secrecy on your part?"

"I've already told them everything they wanted to know about me." 

"Did you now?"

"Yes. I decided that if I was going to remain with the Inquisition, there must be mutual trust between myself and its leaders. They have shown trust in me so, it was necessary that I show trust in them."

"Most who gives their trust so easily doesn't last long in the Great Game."

"I've told them what they wanted to know, nothing more, and I've dictated the terms of what they may do with this information. I'm hardly new to all of this."

"That is wise, but what prevents them from breaking those terms?"

"The things that I haven't told them." Marcus replied "I'm the only person who knows the full extent of my capabilities. As far as they know, if they betray my trust, I could destroy Haven with a word." he paused "Not that I believe that they ever would. They're good people and their hearts are in the right place."

"And what about your heart? What is your motivation for joining the Inquisition?"

"My intentions are nothing but benevolent, First Enchanter. I only wish to see the Breach closed and order restored." he said with a smirk.

"What of the aftermath? The fall of the Circles of Magi, the Mage Rebellion, and the destruction of the Conclave have all thrown Thedas into chaos, and changed the political landscape for the foreseeable future. The Inquisition is the only force that can restore order to the world, but how order is restored is still in question. What do you believe the world should appear when the dust settles?" 

"Why are you asking me? I don't lead the Inquisition."

"Not yet. But you have power, and you know how to use it. I can see your influence already growing in the time that I have been here. I have also heard that you support recruiting the Mages over the Templars. I'm curious as to why?"

"Mages have always been demanding more freedom and trust from the people of Thedas. I believe that they should be given a chance to earn them."

"So you would allow mages to run rampant across Thedas with nobody to keep them under control?"

Marcus laughed. "No. Not at all. Here, Mages will always be a threat, whether some poor bastard who can't control his power accidentally burns down a village, or if they are possessed and become abominations, or go rogue and become Meleficarum. Templars and Circles are necessary to protect both mages and non-mages. But they don't deserve to be locked away in seclusion to be abused and treated as animals simply for being born with magic." he explained. "I would employ regulations and regular inspections of Templar conduct within the Circles and enforce strict punishments against those who break them. Despite what people may think, mages are people too and deserve to be treated as such."

"Hmmm." Vivienne hummed, uncrossing her leg and leaning back into the seat of her chair. "That was not the answer I would have expected from you, seeing as you are willingly an apostate."

"I'm a... unique case to put it mildly. Unlike most mages, I am not under any sort of threat of possession by a demon, and if I was planning on using my power for ill purposes, I would have by now."  

"Whatever the case with who, or what you may be, I find your answer comforting." Vivienne told him. "Thedas needs the Circles restored if order is to be maintained." 

A door opened from deeper in the Chantry, and Marcus heard soft footsteps approaching that he recognized as Josephine's. Soon the Antivan appeared from around the corner, strolling past them in her usual quick paced saunter, before catching sight of them in the corner of her eye and stopping abruptly.

She turned to them, bowing slightly to Vivienne. "Good morning, Madame Vivienne, you are looking well. How was your journey to the Storm Coast?" 

"I thank you for asking. It was... surprisingly dry." she replied.

The ambassador turned to Marcus. "It's good I found you here, it saves me the trouble of trying to track you down. I am calling a meeting in the War Room to..." her eyes shifted to Vivienne then back to Marcus "finish our discussion from last night.

"Of course, Lady Montilyet." He stood up, nodded to Vivienne and made his way to the War Room while Josephine fetched Cullen and Leliana. He pushed open the door and walked into the room, closing it behind him. He spent the next few minutes studying the war table, looking at the various different force deployments and operations conducted by the Inquisition across Thedas. It wasn't long before the three advisers made their way into the room, Josephine first, then Leliana, and finally Cullen, who closed the door behind him.

"Sleep well?" Marcus asked the commander with a chuckle.

"Don't even start." the Commander told him, rubbing his temples. "Though I must thank you for not letting me spend the night in the tavern." 

"It was nothing. I wouldn't want our commander to be humiliated in front of his men, would I? Makes us all look bad." 

"I suppose it does." 

"So, I'm guessing you've all taken enough time to think about what I've told you." Marcus stated. "You aren't kicking me out? Are you?"

"I don't think anybody was going to suggest that." Josephine replied. "Though we would like to know more about you. What you did in ummm...Tamriel...? Did I say that correctly?"

"Yes. But what do you mean by what I did?"

"You told us that you had served in your nation's military." Cullen said, and Marcus nodded in affirmation "I was curious as to the extent of your service."

"Honestly, I'd prefer not to talk about it if that's alright with you." 

"We're trying to figure out how to best put your talents to use." Josephine

"Fine. I fought in a Civil War and I killed a lot of people. We won." Marcus said bluntly, his previously lighthearted, joking tone instantly replaced by a darker, angrier one. "Like I said, it's not my favorite topic." 

"I need more than that. What rank did you hold? Did you command any troops? What sort of operations did you conduct? How long was the war? Those sort of things."

"I served in the Fourth Legion under General Tullius. I fought the Stormcloaks lead by Ulfric Stormcloak who was attempting a secessionist movement to break Skyrim away from the Empire. I started as an auxilary, which was a low ranking, but specialized foot soldier. By the end of the war I held the rank of Legatus, which put me directly under General Tullius and his Second in Command, Legate Rikke in the chain of command. The war lasted several years, but my service in it only lasted a few months." He paused to take a breath. "As for operations I lead or took part in, a better question would be, 'what didn't I do?'"

"Can you name some?"

"Sure. I was deemed too valuable an asset to be wasted as a front line soldier, so I was given specialized missions. Though I still saw plenty of heavy combat. I conducted reconnaissance missions, sabotage, assassinations, forgery, raiding enemy encampments, disrupting supply lines, artifact retrieval, infiltration, prisoner of war rescue bribery, blackmail, negotiations, and siege. Lots of siege."

"And you commanded soldiers during these missions? What part did you play in ending the war?" 

"Most of them, yes. A few of my earlier missions I was put under the command of others, namely Rikke. But yeah, I commanded soldiers in battle." he paused for breath "The war was stalemated before I joined the Legion. Skyrim was split right down the middle, half supported the Empire, half supported Ulfric.It stayed like that for years. After I joined it was over and the poor bastards didn't know it, so the corpses continued to pile up as they had before. Though this time, I was contributing more than my fair share to that pile, and we were actually making progress. Eventually I killed Ulfric and the war ended. Are we done talking about it yet?" he didn't try to hide the bitterness in his voice and the others noticed.

"I'm sorry if this brings back hard memories. It must have been terrible." Josephine said.

Marcus laughed humorlessly "You say that as if war can be anything else." He couldn't stop himself. All the anger, the pent up bitterness and rage that he had held within himself for a decade came pouring out at these people who had asked a relatively innocent, if ignorant question of him.

He looked each of them in the eye. "Have any of you ever fought in a war? A real war?" He looked at Leliana "Not the Blight where you were fighting against soulless, inhuman monsters. Those are at least easy to kill. Or abusing mages trapped in a circle." his cold glare shifted to Cullen. "Have you ever had to kill people like yourself? People who simply chose the wrong side? People who thought, from the bottom of their hearts, that their cause was righteous and just?"

He sighed "Have you ever had to look the families of one of the soldiers under your command in the eye, and tell them that their loved one was dead and that you failed in your duty to protect them? Are you haunted every night by the faces of both friends and enemies? People you watched die, more often than not by your hand?"

" War tries to teach you to hate your enemy, to see them as something less than human. It's how you cope with doing what needs to be done in order to survive. I couldn't do that. I couldn't see them as just some rabid animal that needed to be put down. They thought they were doing the right thing and all it earned them was an early grave. All of those people died because of that greedy, self righteous son of a bitch. Even today, shouting him into a bloody pulp staining the floor of his own throne room doesn't feel like justice for the dead." He breathed heavily once, feeling a strange sense of relief flood over him at the release of pent up emotion. 

"Marcus, you don't need to continue." Leliana told him softly.

"I was done ranting anyways. So, to answer your question, Lady Montilyet, my talents are witty one liners and killing people in droves, then feeling bad about it later." 

"I was not expecting... that." Josephine said meekly. "Would you like to take some time to calm down before we continue?"

"No... no. I'm feeling better." a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over him at his momentary loss of control and anger fueled outburst directed at people who didn't deserve it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost control like that."

"No." Cullen said. "We're sorry. You told us you weren't comfortable discussing it but we pushed you anyways."

"Good. Now that we're all done feeling sorry, I suppose we can get back to business." Marcus quipped halfheartedly. 


	16. Lots of Talking Part 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fairly short chapter wrapping up the War Room meeting. Don't worry, next one will be a bit more exciting.

"What about diplomatic experience?" Josephine inquired "You said you were part of negotiations?"

"Yes. I was mediator in negotiations between the Empire and the Stormcloaks to come to a temporary ceasefire to allow me to deal with Alduin."

"And you were successful?" 

"I was." 

"Can you tell me the details of the negotiations? What tactics did you use? Did you favor one side over the other?"

"That was an interesting day. We, or should I say  _they_ spent hours insulting each other, demanding absurd concessions from the other side, trying to undermine the other side, and attempting to gain a stronger position in the war. Hours of my time were wasted as we got no closer to an agreement." _  
_

Josephine laughed daintily "Yes, I can certainly relate. How did you convince them to come to agreement." 

Marcus snorted "Apparently, the threat of the literal _end of the world_ wasn't enough motivation for them to make peace, so I had to make the threat a little more... immediate. I got sick of hearing them bicker while Skyrim burned, and regrettably lost my temper. So I told both delegations that there would be no concessions, and that they would agree to the ceasefire immediately or I would end the war on a more permanent basis then and there." 

"What do you mean by...?" Josephine began before realizing what he had meant. "Good lord Marcus!" she shrieked "That is not how you conduct a proper negotiation." 

"Give me some credit Lady Ambassador, it worked." 

"But you cannot just force both sides into an agreement against their will!" 

"I can and I did. The fate of the world hinged on them coming to an agreement and I wasn't about to let their over-inflated egos cost the lives of millions." 

"There had to have been a better way than threatening them with violence."

"Perhaps, but I was young, stupid, and sick of hearing old men bicker over petty issues when there was a dragon-god that was going to literally _EAT THE WORLD_."

"I..." she sighed, her defiance beginning to waver "I suppose you do have a point." Josephine admitted meekly. 

"Why did you even need to negotiate a ceasefire to fight dragons in the first place?" Cullen inquired

"Oh, well I needed lure Odahviing in Dragonsreach in order to trap him and convince him to carry me to Skuldafn where Alduin's portal to Sovngarde lay, so that I could enter Aetherius to do battle with, and defeat the World Eater at the foot of Shor's great Hall of Valor." he paused for breath "But Jarl Balgruuf the Greater remained neutral in the war and feared that the dragon attack would leave Whiterun vulnerable to both the Imperials and Stormcloaks. So, the only way he'd let me use his palace to trap Odahviing was to convince both sides to cease hostilities." 

"Wait... what!? What did any of that even mean?" Cullen demanded.

Marcus laughed "I needed a dragon to show me where Alduin was hiding, Balgruuf's palace was built to capture a dragon. In order for him to let me use it, he needed assurance that his city wouldn't be attacked by either warring party."

"Why didn't you just say that the first time?"

Marcus shrugged. 

"I can't believe that I haven't asked this yet, but what were they even fighting over?" 

"The White-Gold Concordat." 

"Which is...?"

"The peace treaty that ended the Great War between the Mede Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion." Marcus explained. "While the war was stalemated and both sides had lost countless men and women in the fighting, the Empire was too battered to continue fighting and was forced to agree to the Dominion's terms, which included significant tribute in gold, and cessation of significant portions of the province of Hammerfell to the Dominion. Hammerfell refused these terms and seceded from the Empire. The terms also included a ban on worship of the god Talos throughout Tamriel."

"What would restricting religious freedom gain them?" Josephine asked.

"Talos was human before ascending to godhood, Tiber Septim, the man who conquered Tamriel and founded the Thrid Empire. As legend goes, his deeds were so great that the  Divines rose him up to divinity and made the Eight, Nine. The elves of the Dominion didn't like the idea of a human becoming a god while they couldn't. The treaty gave them the authority to enforce its terms within the Empire." 

"But how did this lead to a Civil War in Skyrim?"

"Talos was a Nord from Skyrim. The Nords took immense pride in having one of their own become a god. He was well loved, and the Concordat infuriated many of them. They saw it as a betrayal to humanity's greatest hero." Marcus said. "Ulfric Stormcloak took advantage of their anger. He told them that the Empire was corrupt and incompetent and that Skyrim would be better off without it. He considered High-King Torygg to be a puppet of the Emperor, who was in turn a puppet of the Thalmor. So challenged Torygg to a duel and killed him with the Thu'um in his own palace in Solitude. Then he fled back to Windhelm and declared open rebellion against the Empire." 

"Ulfric had the same power as you?"

"Yes, he had studied with the Greybeards for a time before leaving to fight in the Great War." 

"Tell us about your family." Josephine said "I believe you said you were from a noble house in...."

"Cyrodiil." 

"Yes, thank you." 

"Does it matter?" he inquired "It's not like I can gain their support for the Inquisition a world away." 

"Any information has some value." Josephine explained "As a noble, you are far more likely to be familiar with courts and the Game than a commoner. That is, if the Game is played where you are from."  

"Oh, yes." Marcus said with a humorless laugh "Wherever there are politics, there is courtly intrigue, backstabbing and power grabbing, though perhaps not to the extreme that Orlesians seem to take them. They make Breton politics look civil in comparison." 

"So your family played the Game?"

"Gods no. Yes, my parents took me to court in the Imperial City a few times growing up, but we were far too poor to be serious players in politics. I learned the 'art' of _the Game_ during the time I spent in High Rock, the province of the Bretons." the disgust in his voice when he said 'the Game' was obvious. 

"It seems you have some obvious disdain for it." 

"When nobles slaughter commoners en mass to send a message or gain position, and then call it a 'game' there is something inherently wrong with it. The lengths that the Orlesian nobility go to, to gain power, the utter lack of restraint or morality, and the casual indifference these actions are treated with, disgusts me." he replied "If two noble houses decide to slaughter each other over some petty dispute, fine. I couldn't care less. But when innocents are massacred as part of their 'games' that is when it goes to far. It's horrendous." 

"I couldn't agree more." Cullen intoned, nodding his head. 

"I'm sure you would be the toast of the Ball in Orlais." Leliana laughed sarcastically.

"Somebody who isn't afraid to speak honestly in the Imperial Court?" Marcus asked. "The collective nobility of Orlais would go into shock."

"Without a doubt, and it would likely earn you a dagger in the back, mon ami."

"They can try. I'll put them all in an early grave before that happens." he said "I think I would be doing the rest of Orlais a favor. The only saving grace those soulless vermin possess is the fact that they pay well."

"Let us get back on topic." Josephine said, shifting her weight nervously in obvious discomfort at the conversation. "There still remains the question of who should be made aware of your... origins."

"Other than Cassandra and Evelyn, I'm still wary of telling anybody other than you three." Marcus said "Mages have rebelled, the Circles have fallen, the Templars have abandoned the Chantry, Divine Justinia is dead, and there's a hole in the sky. I don't think people need to have 'mysterious travelers from other worlds' added to their list of worries."

"I agree with Marcus." Leliana intoned "We don't know how people would react to this revelation. It could start a panic."

"Secrets like this among comrades are dangerous." Cullen said "The Inquisition needs to be strong and united, and for this to work there needs to be trust. People are afraid of you Marcus. They know nothing about you, about where you are from, or who you are, and they don't understand your abilities. People always fear the unknown, so I think that we need to make a public announcement."

"Perhaps I could suggest a compromise." Josephine said. "When the Herald returns from the Fallow Mire, we could call a meeting of the Inquisition's Inner Circle and tell them all together, then swear them to secrecy until we decide if the rest of Thedas should be told. They are the people that you work most closely with out in the field, so I see no other reason to keep them in the dark on this matter."

"And how can we be sure that _they_   _will_ keep it quiet?" Marcus inquired, Sera immediately coming to mind. Leliana tapped her forefinger against her lip thoughtfully.

"That's not a terrible idea Josie. Perhaps we could give them an...  _incentive_ to remain quiet." Leliana said "I've gathered enough embarrassing information on most of them to keep their lips sealed." 

"I won't ask." Cullen said shaking his head "Fine, we can try it your way, Josephine... if you think this is the best way." he said, his gaze falling on Marcus. "We did swear not to tell anybody without your permission." 

He sighed "Alright, if the three of you think this is the best idea, then I am with you. But if anything goes wrong I will have no choice but to use my mind control powers to erase everyone's memories." 

"Mind control?! You can control people's minds and erase their memories?" Cullen asked.

"Nah, it was nothing more than a jest." he laughed "The Bend Will shout can't erase memories." he shifted his gaze between the three of them, and they returned it, nervously.

"Well... alright then. I shall schedule a meeting with the Inner Circle after the Herald returns." 

"Good, if there isn't anything else to discuss, I'm going to go get some food. I feel like I haven't eaten in days and I'm positively famished." he spun on his heel, strolling around the table to the door and pulled it open. He gave them one last sly smile before leaving the room and pushing the heavy wooden door closed behind them.

"Do you think he was serious about the mind control, or do you think he was simply toying with us?" Josephine asked 

"It is difficult to tell with him." Leliana said "But I wouldn't dismiss it. I spoke with him earlier about a traitor agent, he was adamant that I have the man captured alive and brought back to Haven for interrogation. He said he could make him talk, make him tell us everything. Mind control might have been what he meant." 

"And this doesn't scare you?" Cullen asked, mouth agape "With control over people's wills, he could put the leadership into his thrall. He could turn the Inquisition into his own personal army to do whatever he pleases with." 

"He could, but he won't. If he had any malevolent intentions, he could have acted on them long ago. I believe that his intentions are genuinely good and I am certain beyond a doubt that he is a genuinely good person."

"You actually see the good in somebody without suspecting them of having an ulterior motive?" Josephine gasped "Who are you and what have you done with Leliana?!"

"It's strange to say it, but yes, I do trust him entirely. He's... I feel..." she sighed "I trust him, I think he truly cares, and only wants to help however he can."

"Well, I suppose that you do know him best out of the three of us." Josephine winked at the spymaster and giggled.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Leliana demanded, giving her Antivan friend a reproachful glare.

"There's no use denying it Lilly, I am not blind." she smirked "Perhaps you have indeed fallen under his spell with the way you swoon around him."

"So we're going there, are we, Josie?" Leliana shot back slyly "Don't think I didn't missed you practically drooling over Warden Blackwall sparring in the training yard." 

"I do not  _drool!"_ the ambassador scoffed, her dark cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. 

"Well, now that we are no longer being productive, I think I am going to leave you two ladies to your... whatever you call this, and get back to work." Cullen said with a laugh. "I still need to run some shield drills with the new recruits." 

"Yes, I think we should _all_ return to our duties." Leliana agreed. 

Josephine stood and strolled over to the door, pulling it open and holding it for the other two to leave, before closing it behind her. They each returned to their posts to continue what work it was that they were doing, each processing this new information that Marcus had given them. It seemed like for every question he answered, he created two more.  


	17. Dragon Hunt

"Do you know what I find to be the strangest thing about Thedas?" Marcus asked, gazing at his companions from across the camp fire "It's not the Fade, or the demons and spirits, or the Qunari... no offense Bull."

"None taken." 

"Or even those fucking Orlesians, it's the fact that we speak the same language. I mean, obviously I don't speak Orlesian, or Antivan, or Elven, or... whatever language they speak in the Qun."

"Qunlat." 

"Thanks Bull. But seriously though, what are the odds of two different peoples from two different nations, on two different planets creating the exact same language? It makes you think, doesn't it? What if there is a deeper connection between our worlds? What if I'm not the first person from Tamriel to come to Thedas, or what if people from Thedas have wound up in Tamriel? What if our worlds had contact with each other millennium ago, but all records have have been lost to time."

"Way to make things even weirder boss, I really didn't need to think about this." Bull said.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, silver tongue, now thinking about this shit's gonna be keeping me up all night." Varric remarked 

"How'd you come up with _that_ nickname'?" 

"I have never met somebody who could use words as... ' _persuasively'_ as you can. Speaking of which, how'd you talk me into this mess?" 

"I told you that you would be doing a great service for the Inquisition and the poor downtrodden people of the Hinterlands, and you, being the noble dwarf that you are, couldn't jump to the opportunity fast enough?" 

"Really? Because that's not how I remember it." Varric replied "What I remember was you and the Herald harassing me until I agreed to come,  _WITHOUT_ telling me what I was getting myself into until we'd already left."

"Would you kindly refrain from calling me  _Herald_ when it's just us out here?" the Herald ordered "I can't stand it." 

"As you command, Your Worship." Varric quipped teasingly, earning a glare from Trevelyan. "But yeah, back to how you got me out here..." 

"Oh, I was thinking about Bull, with all that heroic volunteering and stuff." Marcus replied with a shrug. "Well, we needed a fourth person. Solas refused, I couldn't find Sera, Blackwall hurt his shoulder in training, Vivienne was 'busy', and Cassandra is still vomiting her guts out from that sickness she got in the Fallow Mire. Hell, if she hadn't she'd probably take my head for tricking our dear naive Evelyn into coming out on this perilous quest." 

"Oh, please, give her a break, she really isn't that bad." Evelyn remarked defensively on Cassandra's behalf. 

"Yeah, she really is." Varric laughed "This is the first time you've left Haven without our ever diligent Seeker holding your hand. I've seen mother bears with newborn cubs less protective than she is of you. Like Tongue said, she'd have never let you come if she wasn't stuck in bed sick." 

"Thanks, now you're starting to make me feel guilty about sneaking off behind her back." she sighed "Then again, I'm 23 years old, I can make my own decisions, and I don't need Cassandra doting over me like a nursemaid."

"Good, you can explain that to her when we get back so she doesn't murder us in our sleep." 

"Bah don't worry about her, what's the worst that could happen?" Bull remarked.

"Death by immolation. Death by getting crushed. Death by being eaten alive and disolved in a dragon's stomach acid. Take your pick, really." Varric listed

"Then it's a good thing we've got a professional dragon hunter in the bunch." Bull laughed "Say, how many dragons have you killed?" 

"No idea, I haven't really kept track."

"Guess." 

"I dunno. Dozens."

"You see? We'll be fi.... wait? Dozens? You're bullshitting us, aren't you?"

"No, I am not bullshitting you." Marcus declared matter-of-factly, "I am the greatest dragon-slayer who's ever lived back in Tamriel." 

"And how many dragons have you slain here exactly?" Varric asked

"None."

"Well, from what you've told us, our dragons and your dragons ain't exactly the same thing. How can you be so sure you'll be able to handle this one?"

"They're both giant, flying, fire breathing lizards, except the ones from Tamriel are immortal, can talk, and can shout like I can. It's the same principal. Don't get eaten, crushed, or torched, and stab them repeatedly where they are weak until their heart stops beating, do those things and you'll do just fine." 

"Why am I not feeling any more confident than before?" Varric asked with a sigh.

"If you're going to keep that negative attitude, then I'm not inviting you on our next dragon hunt." 

"I wouldn't have come on _this one_ if I'd known what I was getting into."

"And there in lies your problem. You should know better than agree to something before knowing exactly what you're agreeing to." 

"Well... I..." he groaned "Fair point."

"Don't worry about it. If the High Dragon proves to be too much trouble for you, just hide behind me and I'll do all the work." 

"Sounds good to me." 

"Not a fucking chance, boss. I came with you to kill a dragon, not to  _watch_   _YOU_ kill a dragon." Bull remarked. 

"No, I guess you didn't. Alright Varric, you can hide behind me, Bull, and Ev while we kill the dragon, then you can write about it in your next book, that is unless we die in the attempt, then somebody else can write about our heroic failure."  

"Wait, you don't actually think we could die, do you?" Evelyn asked, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. 

"There's always a possibility that we will die a horrific death, screaming in agony in our final seconds of miserable life. But I'm sure we'll kill it."

"How sure?"

"Um... I'll give us a 60/40 chance." Marcus replied casually. "While three of us are busy getting slaughtered by the beast, the fourth can sneak up on her while she's distracted and deliver the fatal blow."

"Don't forget the possibility of hatchlings." Bull added with a smirk. 

"Oh yeah, well, if there are any hatched dragons, we're surely doomed." Marcus sighed with mock resignation. "Better begin saying your final prayers now, everybody." 

"Wait, but you said you've killed dozens of dragons on your own. What makes this one different?"

"I made everything up. I've never even seen a dragon before, let alone killed one. Turns out I'm just an amazing liar and/or storyteller." 

"But... you... you... wait..." she stuttered, her look of shock quickly transformed to annoyance when Marcus couldn't contain his laughter. "Maker, you're so full of shit." she muttered, her face turning a light shade of red in the firelight.

"Stop tormenting the poor girl!" Varric said, choking back a laugh making it come out as a snort. "She's scared enough as is."

"For fuck's sake, I'm not a girl anymore, and I'm not scared!" 

"Well you should be. In a few days we're gonna be fighting a high dragon. Only psychopaths like Marcus aren't afraid of that prospect." Varric replied

"I think I'm more of a sociopath than a psychopath." 

"Psychopath or sociopath, I think we can all agree that you're just weird." 

Marcus laughed "On that, you'll get no arguments from me." 

"But really though, we'll be alright Ev." Bull said reassuringly. "I know this is your first dragonhunt, but as long as you don't do anything completely idiotic, and follow our lead you'll do fine. Keep your head down, keep moving, stay out of its reach, and aim for the eyes and underbelly." 

"The way you talk about it, you make it sound easy."

"It's not." Marcus said "But you need to be prepared for anything, and nothing prepares you like firsthand experience."

* * *

Some days later, they finally arrived in the Ferelden Hinterlands, though they were still a ways from the crossroads. Each of them were dressed in full battle gear to face the dragon. Bull, Varric, and Evelyn had all gotten new armor forged by Harritt, the Inquisiton's lead blacksmith, and Evelyn had found a composite bow in the Fallow Mire much better than the old one she'd been using before. Bull still had his greataxe, and Varric obviously still used Bianca. Marcus was the only one of the bunch who still used his original weapons and armor

"Ya know, Harritt offered to forge you a new suit of armor right?" Varric inquired as they rode. 

"I'm aware." Marcus replied  But, no offense to his skills and talents as a smith, anything he could have given me would be quite a downgrade." 

"What's it made from?" Bull inquired

"Ebony. It's a volcanic metal, only comes from Red Mountain in Morrowind. The stuff's very rare, very strong, and VERY expensive. This suit is probably worth more gold than all of your gear _and_ the horses  combined. Plus I've enchanted it heavily against any sort of magical attacks, so I don't think I'll be needing a new suit any time soon." 

"Just how strong is it?" 

"If you were to repeatedly hit me in the chest with that axe of yours, the axe-head would likely shatter before putting so much as a dent the armor."

"Damn. I'd like to get me a suit of that!" 

"If it's so expensive, how'd you come by the armor?" Evelyn inquired

"Well, not to boast or anything, back in Skyrim I was incredibly wealthy. Not that it matters here since all of my money is still sitting in the Silver Blood bank in Markarth." Marcus laughed "But I didn't buy it either. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm kinda large, and few smiths sell pre-forged suits of armor that would actually fit me. A custom made suit of Ebony armor would have cost me a not-so-small fortune, and I'll admit that I'm a bit stingy with my coin, so I mined the ebony on the Island of Solstheim, and forged the suit myself." 

"Impressive craftsmanship." Varric said, appraising the armor. "Where'd you learn how to smith?"

"I apprenticed under a man named Eorlund Gray-Mane in my spare time." Marcus replied "He's the best smith in all of Skyrim. I learned everything I know about smithing from him." 

"Your sword, shield, and mask aren't Ebony, what's the story behind them?" Bull asked

"The sword is made from dragon bone, again I forged it myself." Marcus replied. "The shield is called Spellbreaker, it was made by the dwarves. I received it as a reward from the Daedric Prince Peryite for completing a task from him."

"Daedric what?"

"Ugh, long story. But to cut it short, basically, he's the god of... well that's not important."  

"So your shield was given to you by a god?"

"Yes."

"So, where you're from you can just talk to a god and they'll give you free stuff?" 

"It wasn't exactly free, I had to kill one of his followers who had betrayed him."

"Oh..."

"Don't look at me like that, he wasn't exactly a... aghh, never mind."  

"Tamriel sounds like an... interesting place to live." Evelyn said.

"You have no idea, Thedas is tame in comparison. Being here has been like an extended vacation away from all the insanity of my homeland." 

"What's the weirdest thing that's happened to you? It can't possibly be worse than a hole in the sky that rains demons."

"I once attended a dinner party with the Daedric Prince of Madness inside the mind of a homocidally insane Emperor who's been dead for almost five centuries." 

"Oh come on! You've gotta be making this shit up." 

"I'm not. Everything I've said has been true."

"Alright, getting off this topic, you mentioned that the shield was dwarven. What are your dwarves like?" 

"Well, technically they aren't dwarves like you, Varric. They're actually a sub-race of elves called the Dwemer. And a more accurate question would be 'what _were_ they like?'" 

"So they've gone extinct?"

"Maybe." Marcus said with a shrug. "One day in the First Era, the entire race just... disappeared." 

"Like they migrated or went into hiding or...?"

"Vanished into thin air." 

"Ya know." Bull muttered "the more you tell us about your world, the less I want to know about it." 

"Then stop asking questions." 

"Well, I for one, find it intriguing." Evelyn said "I'd love to hear more." 

"Then the two of you can talk about it when I'm far, far out of earshot." 

"Seconded." Varric agreed. 

They rode their horses down to the crossroads where the Inquisition had established a significant presence to protect the refugees of the fighting between the Mages and Templars. Many people wove to them as they passed, and there were many cries of 'Herald of Andraste' and 'Your Worship' directed towards Evelyn, she put on a smile and waved back, but Marcus could tell she hated the attention. They dismounted and handed the reins off to a soldier who took the horses to be watered and fed. Corporal Vale, who had sent the message to Haven, requesting assistance met them there. 

"Your Worship, thank you for coming." the soldier said with a bow. He straightened his back and nodded a greeting to Varric before turning back to Evelyn. 

"Of course, it's good to see you again, Corporal Vale." she replied with a friendly smile. 

"It's Sergeant Vale now, actually." the soldier laughed. "Thanks to our efforts in helping the refugees, Commander Cullen saw fit to promote me."

"Congratulations Sergeant. I'm sure your wife is very proud of you." Evelyn said. "How's the baby?" 

"They're both doing very well, thank you. Though it's difficult being away from them for so long." he said "It's hard to believe that she's going to be one year old already."

"I'm glad to hear that. How are the refugees?" 

"Doing much better, thanks to the Inquisition's efforts. They now have food, warm clothing, and proper shelter, though we still lack a proper healer to tend to their wounds."

"Hmmm, is there is anything I can do about that."

"I heard that there is a healer up in Redcliffe. Perhaps you could convince her to come down here and provide treatment to the wounded."

"Of course, we'll head up there right away to..."

"Evelyn. Focus." Marcus said.

"Right... sorry."

"Tell us about the dragon." Marcus requested, stepping forward.

"It's a Fereldan Frostback. She decided to nest in the valley to the North East and for some reason it's been unusually aggressive, even for a dragon. She's been flying out from the nest, attacking travelers on the road, killing livestock, and such. It seems to get bolder with each day, and we don't know how long it might be before it attacks the Crossroads, or maybe even Redcliffe."

"What about offspring?"

"Not sure, but it could explain the aggression." Vale replied "Don't discount the possibility." 

Marcus nodded "Is there anything else?" 

"Yes, a group of outlaws have taken up residence along the East Road near the nest." Vale explained "Don't know what those crazy bastards were thinking, being so close to a dragon nest, but there is something... odd about them." 

"What?"

"My scout, Belette has been watching them. She can tell you more about them. 

"We'll deal with the bandits. Don't worry." 

Vale waved at one of his soldiers, calling the woman over. "This is Belette, she can take you to where you need to go." 

"It's an honor, Your Worship." Belette said with a bow.

"Thank you." Evelyn replied with a smile, skillfully hiding her disdain for the title. "Lead the way." 

Marcus grabbed Otar from his traveling pack and donned it, pulling the hood up over his head. They followed the scout through the Crossroads village and up the road leading North. Before long they came to a stone gateway on the right side of the road. 

"Tell us what you can about the bandits."

I'm not sure that they are bandits." the recruit replied. " Most bandits hide, waiting for travelers to come by, and ambush them when they're vulnerable to keep them from getting away. These ones are standing out in the open, like they're trying to drive people off. These ones are either more than bandits, or stupid, and they're too well armed for stupid."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, there's several groups, some of them are armed with bows, and with better armor than most. There's too many for us. Be careful not to get flanked, they don't take prisoners."

"Thanks for the warning." Varric said "We should manage." 

"Alright, good luck with the dragon." 

They passed through the gate, and followed the winding cobblestone road past rocks and trees until they could see armed men standing around a short distance away, one of the men spotted them and they drew their weapons, taking up a threatening posture. Marcus drew his blade and the others followed suit, Evelyn nocked an arrow to her bowstring, running her fingers down the feathers. 

"If you are smart, you'll turn around and head back the way you came." one of the bandits said, bow in hand string drawn and arrow pointed at Marcus' chest. The other bandits moved forward, forming a semi circle to their front, Marcus counted at least six, four armed with swords, axes, and maces, and another armed with a bow. 

"Varric, kill the archer on the left, Evelyn, the one of the right." Marcus muttered just audibly enough for the two to here. More loudly, he spoke to the bandit. We're here for the dragon." Marcus said "Though from what I've heard, your group has been causing the Hinterlands problems. We'll give you this one chance to lay down your arms and surrender yourselves to Inquisition custody." 

"Alright, I'm in a good mood today, so I'll give you one more chance. Take your friends and leave, before I stick you with this arrow." 

Marcus shrugged. "Suit yourself." he took a step forward, and the bandit slipped his fingers from the bowstring. The arrow shot forward and struck him square in the chest, the haft snapping in two and flying off in two different directions. Evelyn loosed her arrow into the offending bandit, striking him in the throat and dropping him like a rock with a spray of blood. Varric killed the second archer with a bolt from Bianca.

"Zun Haal Viik!" Marcus' shout struck the four bandits standing before them, tearing their weapons from their hands and scattering them in all different directions. He and Bull charged the weaponless bandits, cutting them down with ease. Just as he disemboweled the last of the group, several more bandits charged around the corner.

"Fo Krah Diin!" Only one of the bandits managed to dodge out of the path of the shout, the others were instantly frozen solid and killed by the Thu'um. The survivor quickly joined his comrades in death when a bolt from Bianca punched through his chest. With these bandits finished, the four continued on through the woods, following the road until they came upon another stone gateway leading out of the Hinterlands down the King's Highway. There were more bandits that they caught unaware, and a few tents pitched. The outlaws were dealt with quickly and easily. Not far from the tents, they finally came to the mouth of the ravine leading to the dragon's nest, where there were yet more outlaws. One of them was a hulking brute of a man armed with a warhammer.

"What the...? Who are....?"

"We are with the Inquisition, your men are dead and you will be too unless you lay down your weapons and surrender." Marcus said "Do this, and your lives will be spared." 

"Fuck you."

"What an eloquent and well thought out response." Marcus replied sarcastically before sighing indifferently. "Alright, let's get this over with." 

With a roar, the outlaw charged him, shoulder first. The others jumped out of the way, but  Marcus had anticipated the move and sidestepped, easily dodging the charge. The momentum the bandit had built in the charge prevented him from stopping, or turning and he ran straight past Marcus, or would have if the Dragonborn hadn't turned on his heel and slashed his sword across the unarmored calves of his opponent, biting deeply and severing his tendons. Hamstringed, the brute dropped to the ground with a cry of agony, his legs incapable of supporting his own weight. Bull finished the job with a massive blow from his greataxe onto the man's head, crushing his helmet and splattering brains, bone, and blood across the ground. With their leader, and most of their number dead, the remaining bandits broke discipline as panic overpowered sense. They were easy prey and easily dispatched.

"Well that was easy." Bull said, wiping the blood from his axe. "I didn't even break a sweat."  

Marcus looked around the clearing as he sheathed his blade. Varric and Evelyn were busy retrieving arrows and bolts from the corpses laying strewn about the ground. He noticed as the Herald's gaze lingered on one body. "Hey, Ev. You alright?" 

"Huh...? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I just need a moment to... catch my breath." she replied quickly, and almost defensively.

"You sure?" Varric asked, concerned. 

"I said I'm fine." 

"Alright good, come on." Bull said. "We still have a dragon to slay." This close to the dragon, the Qunari was practically giddy with anticipation. They left the corpses where they fell, continuing on further down the ravine towards the High Dragon's nest. Before long, the four of them emerged from the caves into an enormous ravine spanning hundreds of feet in every direction, surrounded by sheer cliffs standing high above them. A great spire of stone stood in the center of the canyon, and numerous ridges and crevasses marred the landscape with rocks and trees dotting the ground. An earth shattering roar drew Marcus' eye to the ridge sitting closest to the great stone spire. There sat a dragon unlike any Marcus had seen in Tamriel, four legged, and far larger than any of the Dov. He smiled, finally he would have a fight to test his mettle. The beast took to the sky with two beats of its enormous wings, flying around the far side of the spire away from them.

"Do you think she saw us?" Evelyn asked. As if to answer the Herald's question, the dragon circled around the spire and made a beeline straight for them, flames beginning to form in her gaping maw.

"I think that's a yes." Varric replied "Run!" They bolted down into the valley, moving as fast as their legs could carry them. The dragon reached them and they scattered as it breathed a stream of flame, scorching the ground and nearly roasting the band alive. Even through his armor, Marcus could feel the heat even through his armor.

"Don't bunch up!" he shouted "Spread out, keep moving, and for fuck's sake, don't trip on a rock!" 

He kept an eye on the sky, constantly watching the dragon as it circled his prey. It dove towards them, rear leg slamming into the rocky spire, smashing through solid stone and sending it raining down on them. He narrowly avoided a boulder the size of a giant Frostbite spider when he heard a high pitched shriek. He jerked his head around and saw a dragonling through the view slits of his mask. The beast hunched down, it's partially formed wings sticking up in the air, posturing aggressively. It shot a fire ball at the Dragonborn, who barely managed to get his shield up in time, bracing for the impact. The warding effect of Spellbreaker dissipating the flames upon impact. The dragonling lunged at him, slamming into his raised shield, staggering him backwards and nearly knocking him off his feet. The beast retreated, circling him readying for another assault, but this time he was ready. When it charged, he sidestepped like he had with the bandit at the last second, before driving the point of his blade into its flank. Blood spurted from the gaping wound as it dropped to the ground, flailing and spasming wildly, screaming for its mother as it died.

The High Dragon heard the death cry of its offspring and turned her full wrath upon Marcus, ignoring the others of his party as they continued further into the valley, they noticed their comrade's plight and turned to help him. Varric and Evelyn fired bolts and arrows into the airborne beat's scaly hide, and Bull shouted taunts and insults, desperately trying to get her attention, but she barely even took notice. She circled the Dragonborn, launching fireballs at him with every pass. Five years had left his dragon killing skills rusty, and the ceaseless rage of the dragon's assault, and the weight of his armor as he was forced to constantly dodge and duck her attacks was beginning to wear him out. But it was also wearing down his temper. He could feel his rage building up inside him, as he was humiliated by a dimwitted animal.

Another fireball shattered the protective ward of Marcus' shield, leaving him vulnerable, he chest heaved with exertion and he was sweltering, nearly boiling alive, inside his cage of ebony as the world burned around him. Sweat poured down his brow, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. He could vaguely hear the cries of his comrades from outside the ring of flame that surrounded him. He saw a shadow cover him and looked up to see the dragon hovering above him, hear the tremendous beating of her enormous wingspan, like the sound of hurricane force winds. Behind her was the great stone spire, standing tall above them both. Flame ignited in the dragon's jaws, ready to burn him to cinder and ash, to end his miserable life. But today was not the day that he would die.

Funneling his rage, frustration and fear, he summoned a single tremendous shout that shook the world to its roots. "FUS RO DAH!" A shockwave that could have leveled a mountaintop struck the Fereldan Frostback with all of its might. The beast screamed as it was slammed back into the spire, smashing through it as though the stone were a pile of children's building blocks. Hundreds of tons of stone rained down upon the stunned dragon as it lay helpless on the ground, but astonishingly, she still was not dead. Marcus pushed through the flames, his companions rushing to meet him.

"Holy shit Boss!" Bull exclaimed. "That was insane! How did you do that?" 

"Marcus! Are you alright?" Evelyn asked, concerned, appraising the scorch marks that cloaked his black armor. 

He grunted as response, paying them little mind as they circled the shattered remnants of the spire. On the opposite side, the dragon lay struggling desperately to free itself from the rubble, it twisted and writhed, the rubble shifting slightly, and falling from her body, revealing a badly broken wing. Its eyes grew wide, and desperate with fear as she saw the party of dragon hunters approaching. In a final act of desperation, she let out the most dreadful, painfilled scream that Marcus had ever heard. They all reeled, covering their ears in pain as the shriek assaulted their eardrums mercilessly. A dozen dragonlings came pouring out of the surrounding hills, thundering towards the adventurers, called to protect their wounded mother.  

"Well, shit. You pissed off the little ones." Varric exclaimed. 

"How about you shut up and kill the fucking things before they eat us!" Bull yelled in response.

He dodged a fireball and charged the nearest one, slamming his axe down on the creature's neck, hacking down all the way to the bone. Evelyn managed to drop another with a well aimed shot to the eye. It died before it even hit the ground. Marcus bashed another in the side of its head with his shield, before driving his blade down the stunned dragonling's throat.

There was a roar of exertion and all eyes fell on the dragon as she finally managed to pull herself free from the rubble. She attempted to take flight, and flee from the battle, but with the broken wing, stable flight was impossible for the beast. Flying further into the ravine, towards her nest, she barely managed to stay above the canyon walls, slamming hard into the stone wall before crashing to the ground in the far clearing. 

"Come on!" Bull roared "She's not dead _yet_!" 

They carved a path through the onslaught of dragonlings, cutting them down as they came at them, while pushing further into the canyon towards the grounded dragon. They finally came to the wide open space at the end of the ravine, the dragon lay upon the ground, its broken wing bent back in a grotesquely unnatural manner, blood pouring from many gaping wounds in its hide from both falling rocks and arrows fired by Varric and the Herald. Her offspring were dead, she had nowhere left to run and she was theirs for the killing. 

"Let's finish it then." Marcus said "But don't underestimate her. She's wounded, she's cornered, and she has nothing left to lose. The dragon is more dangerous than ever now."  

"YES! Taarsidath an-Halsaam!" Bull exclaimed, the giddiness returning eagerly awaiting the kill. The dragon saw them approaching, and feebly got to her feet. She gave another roar, both angry and terrified, warning them to stay back, not resigned to her fate. But the hunters were not to be dissuaded from their task. They circled around the beast, Varric and Evelyn hanging back, Bull and Marcus approaching from two opposing directions, forcing her to divide her attention. In desperation, she jerked her head side to side, exhaling a river of flame upon the two, Bull dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding the flame and grunting in pain as the fire singed his back.

Marcus shouted "Feim!" before the fire reached him, passing through his ethereal form harmlessly. Varric and Evelyn loosed arrow after arrow into her face, one lucky hit finding an eye. Blood spurted from the wound and the partially blinded animal screeched again in pain, reeling from the strike. Marcus and Bull took the opportunity to charge her, striking blow after blow against her exposed stomach and neck. Bull's axe cleaved into her right foreleg, hacking through the tendon and making her collapse onto her side. She started kicking in desperation, trying to force her attackers away from her but to no avail. Marcus dodged a blow from her hind leg and drove the point of his blade into her soft belly with both hands, and forced it up towards her chest with great effort, cutting a hideous wound through the scales that sprayed crimson all over the Dragonborn's armor.

The dying beast gave one last heartbreaking screech before Bull silenced her permanently with a mightly blow to the throat. At long last, the beast was dead. 

"So, how was that for your first dragonhunt?" Varric asked Evelyn.

"Holy shit, I can't believe we're still alive." she breathed, chest heaving with relief. "I thought you were a dead man for a moment back there, Marcus. How are you feeling."

"I could really use a drink." he exclaimed, panting with exhaution.  

Bull laughed "Now we're talking! I've got just the stuff in mind when we get back to Haven." 


	18. The Venatori

They returned triumphant to the crossroads to a cheering crowd of Inquisition soldiers and refugees, praising them for the dragon slaying, praising Evelyn's name. They had wanted to throw a feast for the conquering heroes, but they had to politely refuse. A celebration would just add further strain to the already difficult situation the refugees faced, so they would have to settle for Varric and Bull's extremely graphic, and oftentimes, grossly exaggerated, tales of the battle. Marcus' shout had been heard and even felt all the way to the crossroads, likely much further, and had been mistaken for an earthquake until the people had been told the truth. This didn't surprise Marcus. The Thu'um could often be heard for many miles and even a whisper could shake mountains. Marcus had been practically halfway across Skyrim when he heard the Greybeards call to him from High Hrothgar.

The fact that a single man could do something like this clearly unnerved the refugees and quite understandably. Many had lost homes and loved ones to the mages that had run rampant through the countryside fighting the Templars. Tensions rose and there were whispers and mistrustful stares, much like back at Haven and Marcus didn't blame them. Evelyn had noticed too and had assured them that he was on their side. They trusted her, many even revered her, being the Herald of Andraste and all that. They listened to her words and some of the tension was lifted, though many still gave him a wide berth.

It was late afternoon as they sat in the middle of a scattering of tents, a number of Inquisition soldiers and refugees circled around, listening to what must have been the fifth telling of the story by Bull and Varric. From his seat just outside the circle, Marcus noted that every time they told the tale, it changed ever so slightly, the dragon was bigger, the flames were hotter, the dragonlings were more numerous. Marcus chuckled to himself and took a drink out of his flagon of ale. Evelyn came and sat down next to him.

"I wish we didn't have to kill her." she confessed

"Who?"

"The dragon. All she wanted was to be left alone."

"She'd killed people. She would have killed more if we hadn't done something."

"I know, I know." she said "But we shouldn't be celebrating her death."

Marcus nodded "You want me to tell Bull and Varric to stop?"

"No, let them tell their story. I just don't want to be part of it." 

As if on cue, a refugee approached the two of them, well, really just her. She gave Marcus a wary, sideways glance before giving Evelyn her full attention. Evelyn gave her a warm smile.

"Your Worship, I'm sure you don't remember me, but we've met before, my name is Anna, you saved me from those horrid mages the last time you were in the Hinterlands."

"Oh, of course Anna, how could I forget?" she said, still smiling. "How have you been?"

"My family and I are very well, thank you, Your Worship." Anna said, Marcus noted the slightest of winces at the use of 'Your Worship' on Evelyn's face.

"Please, call me Evelyn." 

"Yes, of course You-" she cleared her throat "I mean Evelyn." she looked nervous "Umm, there's... something I wanted to ask you."

"By all means..."

"Well, I was hoping you would do me the honor of meeting my family." she said "They wanted to thank you personally for saving my life." 

"I would be delighted to meet your family." she said, in a false tone that, to those who knew her, indicated that was one of the last things she wanted. Anna practically jumped out of her skirts with glee, she grabbed Evelyn by the arm and half pulled, half dragged Evelyn out of her seat.

"Want me to come with you?" Marcus asked,

"No, I should be fine." Evelyn replied as she was dragged around the corner of a tent and out of sight.

Marcus finished his ale and sat there for a while, just listening to the white noise of the camp, after a while he stood up and stretched. He'd heard the story enough times, not that he needed to hear it once, him actually being there and all that, so he figured he'd just go for a walk, see a bit more of the Hinterlands before heading back to Haven in the morning.

He started to make his way through the tents of the encampment towards his own. Once he reached it, he took up his sword belt and looped it around his waist. As he started to make his way into the woods, he heard a voice call to him from behind. "Hey, Marcus, you going for a walk?" he turned to see Evelyn strolling towards him, her bow looped around her back with a quiver of arrows.

"Yeah. It's not like I'm gonna be missed." 

"Oh, good, just wanted to know if I could join you?"

Marcus shrugged "Sure, better than walking alone I guess." They passed some sentries who nodded to them as they made their way out of the crossroads and into the forest. For a time they walked in silence, listening to the sounds of nature. The rustling of the leaves on the trees, the music of the chirping birds, the howling of a wolf far off in the distance. Finally Marcus broke the silence. 

"So, do you tire so quickly of the love of the people?"

"You know I hate hero worship."

"Yes, you certainly do." Marcus laughed, and a smile crept upon Evelyn's lips. "How'd you manage to get away?"

"Told them I had to make preparations for the trip back to Haven." she replied. "Did you know she has nearly  _twenty_ relatives?  _TWENTY!_ Every single one of them had thirty different questions, every single one of them wanted to see my mark, some of them wanted to touch it, thought it'd bring them good luck or some shit like that."

"Does it bring good luck?"

"Not in my experience, no." 

They continued on walking in silence, alone. Marcus took a deep breath, smelling the scents of the forest and sighed. 

"This forest reminds me of home."

"Skryim?" Evelyn asked.

"Cyrodiil. There were woods just like these surrounding my family's land. My sister Cornelia and I would always run off and play all day and at night we'd come home, our clothes would be filthy and torn, and we'd be covered with scrapes and bruises." he laughed "My mother would throw a fit every single time. I remember this one time, I think I was maybe nine or ten, I was climbing this tall Oak tree. I wanted to know if I could see the Imperial City from the treetop. Cornelia, warned me that it was a terrible idea, and I, being her older brother, ignored her. Of course she was right in the end. I fell twenty feet, broke my leg, and got a hideous gash on my forehead where a branch cut me on the way down. Cornelia went sprinting home to get help, screaming about how I was bleeding to death. Come to think of it, I'm remember she was crying harder than I was." He smiled with a fond, but sad sort of remembrance without looking at her.

"It's funny." she said "I find it hard to imagine you as a kid."

"Yeah, believe it or not, I wasn't always the man you know. I wasn't always the Dragonborn." he paused thinking. "Well, I suppose I was always Dragonborn, I just didn't know it."

"You must miss your family terribly."

"Every day." he replied sadly "What about you and your family." 

"I write to them as often as I can. They're terrified that I'm going to get hurt, but I always reassure them that I am in good hands." she sighed "They wanted to visit Haven, but I don't want them anywhere near the Breach until it's been sealed."

"That's understandable."

"Maxwell and Frederic would have joined the Inquisition long ago if they didn't have their own families to care for. I have no doubt in my mind." she said. "Maxwell has three kids and Frederic is newly married with a pregnant wife. My parents have told me all about how proud they are that I'm 'leading the world back from brink of chaos'" she laughed bitterly. "I couldn't lead a horse to water if it was dying of thirst."

Marcus looked at her, a little shocked "Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?" 

"Maybe I exaggerated a bit, but I'm not wrong. I'm not a leader. Every time I've left Haven to go on a mission, somebody else has taken charge. Cassandra always made the decisions until we left to kill the dragon, and now you are in charge." she sighed "Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm angry that you're doing my job for me, but everybody expects me to be something I'm not." 

"Just give it time. You're still adjusting to a massive change in your life." Marcus replied 

" _Massive change_ is an understatement." she said "I still haven't even figured out what it means to be the _Herald of Andraste_."

Marcus shrugged. "Many people believe in you, and you have thousand of followers already, you must be doing something right."

"Being popular does not a good leader make." she said bluntly. "There have been many well loved leaders throughout history who didn't have the first fucking clue about what they were doing. I don't know what She was thinking when She chose me, well, if She chose me." 

"You have doubts about being chosen by Andraste?" 

"I dunno. I go back and forth. Most of the time I think I just got caught in some freak accident. Wrong place, wrong time, and all that." she sighed "Do you ever wonder why your gods made you Dragonborn?" 

"More than I care to admit. Though I guess He could have chosen worse, I did what I was meant to do, after all." he laughed halfheartedly "I'm not going to claim to understand the will or plans of Akatosh. That's beyond even me." 

"Well, if whether I was dragged into all of  _this_ by divine will, or by accident, I was the wrong person for this to happen to." 

"What makes you say that?" he asked. 

"I guess I'm just, too nice." she said "or too weak, depending on who you ask. I can't make the hard decisions, I hesitate to do what needs to be done, and the choices that I do make weigh on my conscience. I'm always second guessing myself when certainty is needed." she shook her head. "Before the Inquisition, I had never killed anybody. The first person I killed was this Templar kid, even younger than I was, back there at the Crossroads." She said, jerking her thumb back the way they had come. "Killing still makes me... uncomfortable." 

Marcus nodded, remembering their fight with the bandits that had been between them and the dragon. "You'll get used to it, in time it won't bother you as much anymore."

"But I don't _WANT_ to get used to it." she said, exasperated "I don't want to become some cold machine that can end a person's life without remorse or hesitation. I can't let myself become like..."

"Me?" 

"No, no, no." she said defensively. "You aren't like that. But you aren't afraid to do what needs to be done."

"What's your point?"

"The Inquisition needs a leader, an Inquisitor. The person willing to make the hard decisions, to make the right decisions. If they inner council asked you, would you be willing to-"

"No."

"What? But why not?"

"Several reasons. First and foremost is the fact that I don't want to. There's also the issue that everybody is afraid of me, and few people trust me, whether or not I like it. Every day people stare at me, avoid me, whisper behind my back. Fear doesn't beget loyalty, and you can't lead the Inquisition through fear. The Inquisitor must be able to inspire loyalty from their men."

"Then make them trust you. Show them that you are the man to follow."

"It's not that easy. When they look at me, all they see is somebody who is dangerous, all they see is a mage, a mage with a power that none of them, not even the Templars understand. Thedas outside of the Imperium has a deep-rooted fear of magic dating back centuries. Nothing I say or do now will change that. And, unlike you, I'm not seen as the chosen one of a god. You already do. Whether or not you realize it, they joined the Inquisition because of you."

"But I'm not ready. I don't know if I can do it." 

"Which is why we're here to help you." Marcus replied "I may not be able to lead, but I can and will help you however I may."

"I... thank you." she said "I suppose that is as much as I can ask for."

* * * 

The next morning they had woken up early to prepare for the journey back to Haven. They restocked on food and water for the voyage and were almost finished loading their supplies onto their horses when Evelyn groaned and smacked herself in the head, obviously having forgotten something important.

"Wait wait wait." she said. "We can't leave yet. I can't fucking believe I almost forgot."

"Forgot what?" Bull asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"I promised Sergeant Vale that we'd find him a healer for the crossroads in Redcliffe before we left." 

"Oh for fuck's sake. Can't he send somebody to collect the damned healer? I don't want to have to unpack and repack all our shit all over again."

"Shouldn't have to." she replied "It's not like Redcliffe's far. Just take our armor and weapons and go." 

"I dunno, should we be going anywhere near Redcliffe with all the rebel mages holed up there?" Varric asked 

"Grand Enchanter Fiona did invite the Inquisition to Redcliffe, after all." Evelyn replied. "I'm sure they'd welcome us. Besides, we're not going there for the mages." 

"And what if it's a trap?" 

"Then they die." Marcus said bluntly "We just killed a High Dragon. I don't think a few mages would be much trouble." 

"Um, in case you haven't been told, there's a lot more than  _a few_  mages in Redcliffe." 

"Would an armed escort of Inquisition soldiers make you more comfortable Varric?" 

"Actually, yes." 

"Oh grow a pair Tethras." Bull laughed

"You know, it might not be such a bad idea to talk to the mages." Evelyn said "Just hear them out. I'm not saying we have to side with them, but it couldn't hurt."

"Sure it could." Varric replied "I doubt that Cassandra and the others back in Haven would appreciate us talking to the mages without talking to them first." 

"Come on Varric, show a little initiative." Evelyn said "We'd get nowhere if we had to keep asking permission first."

"Come on, let's go." 

Vale sent a group of scouts ahead while they made preparations to tell Redcliffe that they were coming. After they were all armed and armored, the four of them set off on the road North to Redcliffe. They passed by the same gateway they'd been through the day before to reach the dragon. Inquisiton soldiers passed to and fro through the gate, collecting anything of value they could find in the dragon's lair, and on the dragon herself, as well as the bandits they had slain. The road itself was lonely, completely devoid of travelers with nobody else going to or from the village. It wasn't long until they discovered why.

As they reached the gate to Redcliffe Village, they discovered that a Fade rift had opened directly in front of the portcullis. Demons swarmed around the rift angrily. A soldier when running past them. She ignored the travelers completely, overtaken with fear.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Marcus said.

They drew their weapons and advanced on the waiting demons. Just as the two groups were about to slam together in battle, time itself slowed down to a near crawl. A demon created from flame swung a massive arm at him as slowly as a snail would crawl across the dirt. Marcus dodged the blow in an equally sluggish manner. Then, just as unexpectedly, time sped up well beyond its normal rate, to those outside of the abnormal effects, all they could see was a distorted blur of motion as the combatants clashed. Evelyn and Varric stood well outside of the effects firing arrows and bolts into the mess and watching as they zipped through the air at a blindingly fast pace or lazily flew through the air. Marcus extinguished the rage demon permanently with a frost breath shout and soon they had cut down the remaining shades and wraiths. 

"Would you please close this fucking rift already?" Bull demanded, panting with the exertion and adrenaline of battle.

Evelyn ran up to the rift and extended her marked hand, energy flowed from the mark to the rift and it closed in a brilliant flash of green light as it always did. 

"What... was that?" Evelyn asked

"It was... altering the time around it." Marcus said "Speeding it up and slowing it down. I've never seen anything like that coming from a rift, but then again, we still don't know what they're fully capable of. We need to investigate this. Fiona should have answers."

"Maker have Mercy. Is it over?" They all turned to see the soldier that had run past them earlier returning. "Open the gates!" she shouted to the men on the other side who had sealed them. One of them pulled a lever and the portcullis rose from the ground, granting them passage into Redcliffe. Ass they passed through the gate, they were stopped by one of the scouts sent ahead. 

"We've spread word the Inquisition was coming, but you should know nobody was expecting us."

"No one? Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?" 

"If she was, she hasn't told anyone." the scout replied. "We've arranged use of the tavern for negotiations."

Another voice caught their attention, they looked over to see an elven mage approaching them. "Agents of the Inquisition. My apologies. Magister Alexius is in charge now but hasn't yet arrived. He is expected shortly." 

"That will do." Marcus told him. The soldier nodded and was off. They followed him down the road past a group of soldier knelt in prayer, with a Chantry Mother giving the sermon. It wasn't long before they reached the edge of the village. Many people milled about, speaking to each other in low conversation. Others went about on their daily business, running errands in the various shops that littered the town. They reached the tavern and pushed through the door, the place was nearly packed, but they spotted the Grand Enchanter surrounded by a group of other mages near the far wall of the building. When they entered, people began clearing out until it was only them and Fiona and her people.

"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition." she said as they approached her "Might, I ask what has brought you to Redcliffe."

"Well, we were here for a healer to help the refugees at the Crossroads, until we noticed something... a little off about a rift at the gate to the village. We were hoping that you might have answers." Marcus replied. Despite the fact that they had met before in Val Royeaux, he saw no sense of recognition in her eyes. "That, and you did invite us here." 

"I do not recall... when have we ever spoken?"

"Back in Val Royeaux."

"You must be mistaken. I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave." 

"Funny." Evelyn said. "Because we met somebody who looked exactly like you in Val Royeaux, and that somebody gave us an open invitation to meet with the mages here." 

"Exactly like me? I suppose it could be magic at work but why would anyone..." she shook her head "Whoever, or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed." 

"How?" 

She sighed "The Free Mages have... pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium. As one indentured to a Magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you." 

"Well, shit." Varric muttered

"An alliance with Tevinter sounds like a terrible mistake. I can't even begin to understand what you were thinking." Evelyn said

"All hope for peace died with Justinia." Fiona replied "This... bargain with Tevinter would not have been my first choice. But we had no choice." she shook her head sadly. "We are losing this war. I had to save as many of my people as I could." 

The door opened and they all turned. Two men clothed in garb typical of Tevinter mages entered the building. One of them, the elder of the two spoke first. "Welcome my friends! I apologize for not greeting you earlier." he moved to stand in between the Inquisition and Fiona. 

"Agents of the Inquisition. Allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius." 

"The Southern mages are under my command." he fixed his gaze upon Evelyn. "And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade? Interesting." Something in his tone bothered Marcus, he pushed himself in front of her, protectively. 

"My name is Marcus Duronius. I will speak for the Inquisition." 

"Duronius, hmmm?" the Magister said. "Are you from the Imperium as well?"

"No." 

The magister nodded impassively he walked over to one of the empty tables, motioning for Marcus to sit across from him. "So, what brings you to Redcliffe." 

"Inquisition business, unrelated to the Mages. Until we noted something... rather unusual with a Fade rift sitting just outside the gate." Marcus said. "Time was distorted around the rift. I was hoping that somebody here would have an explanation."

Alexius frowned. "No, I am afraid I know nothing of this phenomena of which you speak."

"That's unfortunate." Marcus replied, not believing a word of what the Magister had said. 

"Well, there is no point in wasting your visit here. I understand that you need mages to close the Breach, mages which I may be persuaded to provide. So, shall we negotiate?" 

Marcus nodded "Alright, let's talk."

"Good, it's always a pleasure to meet a reasonable man." he waved the other Tevinter over "Felix, would you send for a scribe please?" but he caught himself "Oh, pardon my manners. My son Felix, friends." the young man gave a curt bow before moving off to do as he was bidden. "I am not surprised you are here. Containing the Breach is not a feet that many could even attempt. There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavor. Ambitious indeed."

"So, will you be willing to help us?"

"There will have to be-" Alexius paused, both of them looked over to see that Felix had returned, staggering towards them, unsteadily. Both Marcus and Alexius pushed themselves up from their chairs just as Felix collapsed. Marcus caught him by the arms holding him up and pushing him back to his feet. Marcus felt as he slipped something into his hand before pushing off.

"My lord. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

"Are you alright?" Alexius asked, genuinely concerned for his son. 

"I'm fine, father."

"Come, I'll get your powders." the Magister turned towards his guests "Please excuse me, my friends. We will have to continue this another time." he then turned his attention to the Grand Enchanter. "Fiona, I shall require your assistance back at the castle."

"I don't mean to trouble everyone." Felix apologized once again before following his father.

"I shall send word to the Inquisition. We shall conclude this business at a later date." Alexius said, and with that they were alone in the tavern. Marcus opened his hand and found a piece of paper with writing, he took the paper and read the contents.

"What does it say?" 

"It says to meet him in the Chantry in the village." 

"Think it might be a trap?" Bull asked

"Always a possibility, but it's worth an investigation." 

"Since we're already this deep in shit, there's nothing wrong with wading in further." Varric muttered with a half laugh.

They left the tavern and followed the pathway up to Redcliffe's Chantry and pushed the doors open. Inside they found a lone dark haired man, a mage judging by his staff, and another fade rift, fighting off demons alone. 

"Good, you're finally here. Now help me close this would you?" he remarked after killing two shades. This rift was much like the last one, distorting time, speeding and slowing it unnaturally. After they had finished cutting through waves of terror demons, shades, and wraiths, Evelyn finally managed to close the rift with her mark, returning the Chantry to normal. The mage turned to Evelyn. 

"Fascinating. How does that work exactly." Evelyn could only stare and shrug, the mage laughed "You don't even know do you? You just wiggle your fingers and 'boom' rift closes." 

"Um, who are you?" she asked.

"Ah, getting ahead of myself I see." he bowed slightly "Dorian of House Pavus. Most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"

Bull growled "Wonderful. Another fucking Vint." 

"Ignore my companion." Evelyn said. "I'm Evelyn Trevelyan of Ostwick. My Qunari friend is the Iron Bull. This is Varric Tethras." she said motioning to the dward. "And last is Marcus Duronius." 

"Duronius... Duronius. Sounds vaguely familiar. You wouldn't happen to have family in Vyrantium would you?" 

"No." 

"Are you sure? Then who was I thinking of... Bah, nevermind." 

"Where's Felix?" 

"I'm sure he's on his way. He was to give you the note then meet us here after ditching his father. Alexius was my mentor, so my assistance should prove invaluable"

"You're betraying your mentor because...?"

"Alexius  _was_ my mentor." Dorian explained "Meaning he's not any longer, not for some time." his tone grew darker, the casual indifference that had been there before was gone. "Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious to you, even without the note. Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the Rebel Mages out from under you. As if by magic yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself." 

"He arranged it to get here just after the Divine died?" Evelyn inquired

"You catch on quick." Dorian applauded "The rift you closed here, you saw how it twisted time around itself, sped somethings up and slowed others down. Soon there will be more like it, and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe." he sighed and shook his head "The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it's unraveling the world." 

"Can you provide any evidence to back this up?"

"I know what I'm talking about. I helped develop this magic." Dorian replied, annoyed at being questioned. "When I was still his apprentice it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don't understand is why he's doing it? Ripping time to shreds to gain a few hundred lackeys?" 

"He didn't do it for them." Felix said, stepping from the shadows.

"Took you long enough." Dorian said "Is he getting suspicious?"

"No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day." he turned to Evelyn "My father's joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves _Venatori_. And I can tell you one thing: whatever he's done, he's done it to get to you." 


	19. Mages, Templars and Spies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They never went anywhere with that traitor agent in the game and I don't really know why. Butler has been captured and brought back to Haven for interrogation, and he has some interesting things to say.

As they neared Haven, they were met by one of Leliana's forward scouts who had orders to bring Marcus and Evelyn directly to the War Room. When questioned as to why, the scout said that he did not know. They didn't need to be told, since it was obvious. Alexius' letter had arrived before they had and the advisers wanted to know why a Tevinter Magister was contacting the Inquisition and why they had received no warning beforehand.

"We should have sent a letter." Evelyn muttered "Ya know, explaining the whole situation in Redcliffe. It'd probably save us the shitload of trouble we're in now." 

"We're dealing with a man who can alter the timeline at will." Marcus said "We don't know what else he can do, and sending a letter could be dangerous. What if somebody else read it before Leliana? The fewer people who know, the better." 

"Yeah, I agree." Bull said "I also think that this Alexius needs to be dealt with before he fucks things up even more."

"Nobody's gonna argue with you on that, Tiny." Varric said

Soon they had arrived at the settlement itself. The soldiers in the practice yard stopped their training to watch them pass, but their Templar sergeants quickly put them back in line and they resumed clashing together in mock battle. One of Master Dennet's stable hands jogged up to them as they dismounted before the gate, taking the reins of their horses to return them to their pen next to the forge for feeding and watering. Bull strode over the the small encampment the Chargers kept in from of the walls, which was unusually empty. He came back holding a piece of paper with writing on it.

"Looks like Krem's taken the boys out for drills." Bull said "Which means I'm free to drink in peace. You in Varric?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Good to hear." he turned to Evelyn and Marcus "When you two are done getting your asses beaten, feel free to join us. I still owe you guys that drink to celebrate killing the High Dragon." 

"Will do, Bull." Evelyn said, though with a barely noticeable hint of distaste. The four passed through Haven's gate together, then split off as Varric and Bull headed left toward the tavern and Marcus and Evelyn continued straight up the hill towards the Chantry. Before they could enter the building, the pair was stopped by a rather irate Seeker Pentaghast, looking much better than she had when they had left.

"Welcome back." she said coldly, her arms folded across her chest while fixing them with her infamous glare. A group of Chantry sisters went strolling by chatting carelessly amongst themselves until they saw the Seeker's glare. Then their pace picked up considerably.

"Hey Cass..." Evelyn said, more than a little sheepishly. "You're looking better." 

"Don't 'Hey Cass' me!" Cassandra growled "What in the Void were you thinking? How could you be so foolish as to go running off on a dragon hunt?! And would you be so kind as to explain Tevinter and the rebel mages?!"  

"Cassandra." Marcus said "She was in good hands. Bull, Varric, and I all have significant experience with slaying dragons. We'll explain about the mages in the..."

"Then why did you need to drag her along with you," she demanded with a hiss "if the three of you are so capable?"

"Because I wanted to go." Evelyn said, finding her courage "I practically begged him to bring me along. Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen all gave me the go ahead too." 

"Do you realize how vital you are to the Inquisition, no, the world right now? You are far too young and inexperienced. What if you had been killed?"

"You know as well as I do that I live with that threat every day of my life. Every time I leave Haven, no matter where I go, there's a chance that I might die. Fuck, there's a chance I'll get dysentery in a swamp and die doubled over in bed covered in my own shit." 

"You are comparing fighting a dragon to dysentery?" 

"Not the point. But, you say I'm too inexperienced? Well, then answer this. How else am I supposed to get the necessary experience? You don't get better at fighting dragons by avoiding them."

"But..."

"And you bring up my age as well. Marcus, how old were you when you slew your first dragon?"

"Um, twenty one, maybe twenty two." Marcus replied with a shrug.

"Exactly, and don't think I haven't heard the stories Cassandra. I know all about what happened at the Grand Cathedral, and how you became the Hero of Orlais."  

"Ughh" Cassandra gave her trademark grunt of disgust "Is there anybody who _hasn't_ heard that story?"

"I haven't" Marcus said, raising his hand slightly.

Cassandra ignored him. "Alright fine, you have a point. But that doesn't change the fact that you should have told me." 

Evelyn sighed "You're right. I should have told you and I'm sorry that I didn't. But I was afraid you'd try to stop me, or even try to come with us. After the Fallow Mire, you weren't in any shape to travel and you'd have just gotten yourself hurt." 

Cassandra didn't know what to say. Most likely shocked into silence by Evelyn's new found assertiveness. 

"We can talk more later, if you would like, since I'm sure there's plenty more to say, but they're expecting us in the War Room."

"Yes, I know." Cassandra said, her tone hardening again. "We're all very interested to know why you met with the mages without consulting the rest of us first." 

They entered the Chantry together, passing Chancellor Roderick who watched them pass reproachfully. Vivienne sat in her usual nook, reading a book, and glanced up at them as they passed briefly before turning her attention back to her reading material. Mother Giselle smiled at them and was the only one to speak, telling them that she was relieved with their safe return. Marcus couldn't recall speaking to the Revered Mother even once during his time in Haven, but thanked her anyways for her concern. They entered the War Room where Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen were already waiting for them.

"It's good to have you all back alive and well." Josephine stated "Now kindly explain why I have received a letter from a Tevinter Magister, stating that you met with and spoke to him in Redcliffe?" 

They told them everything, from the strange Fade Rift in front of the gate that distorted time, to Fiona not remembering their meeting in Val Royeaux, to the Mages swearing loyalty to Tevinter. They spoke of their brief conversation with Alexius, then they got to meeting Dorian and Felix in the chapel. They spoke of the Venatori and how Alexius had changed time to allow him to reach Redcliffe just after the Conclave had been destroyed. They listened to them speak in grim silence until they had finished providing every last detail.

"Do you trust this Dorian?" Cullen asked "He's a Tevinter just like Alexius."

"Not entirely." Marcus said "But ignoring the problem isn't an option."

"No, it isn't." Leliana agreed

"What did Alexius say in his message?" Evelyn inquired

"He apologized for being forced to cut the meeting short and expressed his desire to continue negotiations with the Herald personally at an opportune date."

"Almost certainly a trap." Cullen voiced, rubbing his chin. 

"I have no doubt commander." Leliana said "But we must turn this to our advantage. He seems fixated on you, Evelyn. We can use this to get close to him and strike." 

"But planning something like this takes time. We can't expect the Herald and her party to fight these cultists on their own. She'll need support from our soldiers, but how are we to get them into the castle? Redcliffe Castle is a fortress that has never once fallen to siege."

"Siege wouldn't be an effective option, even if it were possible." Leliana said "It might only make him desperate, and he may accelerate his plans. If we are to get troops into the castle, it must be done subtly, without drawing attention from Alexius." 

"I understand that haste is of the utmost importance, but we cannot rush into this blind." Josephine said "I could send a letter to Arl Teagan offering aid. He was quite displeased with being... displaced by these Venatori and has traveled to Denerim to seek aid from King Alistair and Queen Anora. He could provide information about the layout of his castle and would certainly make a valuable ally as thanks for retaking his lands." 

"Good thinking Josie. If you could write up the letter immediately, I can have a Raven on its way to Denerim before the day is over." Leliana said

"I should also send a reply to Alexius. Silence would seem rather suspicious, if I do say so myself."

"Hmm. Send a letter in a few days. Tell him that a situation has arisen on the Storm Coast with some darkspawn that requires her immediate attention." Leliana replied.

"Not the worst lie I've heard." Evelyn said "He might just believe it."

"Oh, it isn't a lie." Leliana said with a smile "Our scouts and those Blades of Hessarian, whose acquaintance Marcus made during his visit to that miserable place have reported a number of darkspawn sightings all along the coast. Somebody needs to deal with them, and it should give us all the time we need to prepare." 

"Fuck me." she groaned "Alright, I'll be sure to take Blackwall, since, ya know, Grey Warden. You wanna come too Marcus?"

"No."

"Well, you're no fun." she pouted "When do I leave?"

"We're not gonna send you off immediately. Take a week to rest if you need to." Cullen said "It's not every day that somebody slays their first High Dragon." 

"Oh, and one more thing. The Grey Wardens in Ferelden had camps along the Storm Coast. Since Blackwall doesn't have any information on why they disappeared or where they went, you should search these camps while you're on the coast and see if you can find any clues to their whereabouts." Leliana intoned.

"Why didn't you tell Marcus to look while he was there?"

Leliana lowered her gaze in slight embarrassment. "Honestly, I completely forgot." 

"That's very unlike you, Leliana. I must say I'm shocked." Evelyn gave an amused chuckle."But yeah, I'll be sure to keep my eyes open. Is there anything else?"

"Nothing to bother you with, Your Worship." Leliana said "Though I do need your help with the prisoner, Marcus, when you have a moment."

"What prisoner?" Evelyn asked.

"A traitor agent. So far he has managed to keep his lips sealed. Marcus claims he has a way to make him talk that is more effective than... traditional interrogation. You are free to join us if you wish." 

"I..." Evelyn started, but was quickly cut off by Cullen.

"I can't remain silent on this and pretend this is not going to happen. I know what you are going to do, and it's immoral, and unjust."

"What do you mean?" Cassandra, who had, up until this point been silent through the procedure of the meeting. "What are you two planning?"

Marcus sighed "I have a shout that... allows me to control the actions of any living thing it touches. Bends their will to my own."

"Anything?" Evelyn said, blinking in disbelief.

"Yes, anything but the undead. People, animals, even dragons are all completely susceptible to its effects." 

"And you use this on people?" 

"How is it any worse than tearing someone's soul out and stuffing it into a magical rock?" Marcus countered "He has information we can use and this is the best way to obtain it."

"But it just seems... wrong. Cruel even."

"Crueler than resorting to torture? This shout doesn't cause them any pain, it doesn't damage their mind, and its effects are temporary." Marcus retorted "He refuses to speak, which means he has something to hide. Can we afford  _not_ to use it? How many lives might we save if we do?" 

"Think of the political ramifications. I can't speak for your world, but the only means with which a mage can control somebody like this is through blood magic. If word got out about this, it would seem as though the Inquisition is harboring blood mages... well, it could ruin the reputation we've been working so damn hard to build." 

"Except I'm not a blood mage."

"Do you think anybody else would see the difference? Many soldiers already think that you are a blood mage, or an abomination and this would only confirm their beliefs." Cullen said "There are times when I don't see much of a difference myself."

"I understand how you feel, Cullen, truly, I do. I know how they hurt you, imprisoned you and tortured you, murdered your friends before your eyes." Leliana said, "But Marcus isn't just another abomination like those inhuman monsters at Kinloch. Even comparing them to each other is an injustice."  

"Maybe not, and Marcus did save my life in the Temple, for that, I am still grateful, but how can you be so sure?" Cullen retorted "We have no idea the sort of things he's done to the people in his own world."

"Would you kindly not speak about me like I'm not here?" Marcus said. "But you should understand that we are at war, yet we still don't even know who our enemy is. Morality isn't always a luxury we can afford."

"So we do things your way and we restore order, but at what cost? Would you be willing to lose your humanity over this?"

"I've made that sacrifice long before I came to Thedas, Cullen." Marcus replied "We must do what needs to be done to protect the world from annihilation. The simple truth is that it isn't going to be a tidy, clean road. It is going to get bloody, brutal and cruel before the end."

"So that's what we are going to be? The all mighty Inquisition, crushing anybody who stands in our way in the name of restoring order? What else would you be willing to sacrifice? Who else?"  

"Andraste's sake, Cullen, you are being irrational." Leliana said "How many have already died? How many more are going to die? We must do everything in our power to save as many lives as possible, and I'm willing to make any personal sacrifice necessary to do it. This man is our enemy, and you are worried about his well being?" 

Cullen sighed, tired and beaten, showing signs of beginning to relent. "How does everybody else feel about this? 

"Look, I don't know how I feel." Evelyn said "But if Marcus is telling the truth, wouldn't this be a cleaner way than... you know, torturing him?"

"Cassandra?" he turned to the Seeker, his eyes almost pleading with her to stand with him. Needing her to speak out against what he saw as madness.

She shook her head. "We must look at the greater picture. If this man knows anything, we should learn what he can tell us." 

"Josephine?" Cullen had all but given up. He looked exhausted, defeated and resigned. Josephine's answer did little to lighten his dour mood.

"This is hardly my area of expertise." she said quickly, dodging the question. "I shall defer to the majority's judgment." 

"I see." Cullen said "Well, since we are all decided... I... I shall return to my duties." He turned on his heel and strode over to the door, pulling it open and leaving without giving so much as a sideways glance back at them.

"I'll go talk with him." Evelyn said hurriedly, going after him. "Maybe I can get him to see reason." 

"I have much work that needs to be done." Josephine said quickly, wanting nothing more than to leave the room. "Good day." She followed Evelyn out the door and returning to her office.

Cassandra turned to Leliana. "I want to be there for the interrogation." Leliana nodded and the three of them left the War Room, walking back down the long hall of the Chantry. The descended a flight of stairs into the Chantry basement, and then traveled down a hallway to the small prison where Butler was being held. The same room where they had taken Evelyn when she had been brought back from the Temple after the Breach had opened. Leliana opened the heavy wooden door. Two guards stood on either side of the door. The room was windowless and dimly lit by a two torches against the wall with the door. In the center of the room knelt Butler, chained to the floor in the same shackles that had once held the Herald. He had them fixed with an icy stare that gave nothing of his thoughts away. 

"You are dismissed." Leliana said curtly. The guards saluted and turned on their heel, filing out the door and closing it behind them. Marcus took a closer look at the prisoner. "Butler" was human, with dirty blond hair. His chest had been bared completely, all he wore was a pair of ragged brown trousers. He guessed the man's age to be in his late twenties. His face was blackened with large bruise and the flesh around his left eye had swollen significantly. Obviously side effects of the "Traditional interrogation" Leliana had put him through. She glared at the man, with an expression of disgust that she did little to try to hide. He returned the glare, his face expressionless, his one eye cold and unfeeling. He was completely silent.

"Butler, this is the day that this ends. Today, you are going to talk one way or another. Tell us what what I want to know willingly, and I promise you that I shall be merciful." she said bitterly

Silence, she knelt down and leaned closer, looking him from his level.

"This is your last chance to do the right thing."

He spat in her eye and said nothing. She stood up and wiped the spittle away with the back of her gloved hand. Cassandra started towards the man, but Leliana's arm shot out, blocking her path. "So be it." she turned to Marcus "Do it."

Marcus stepped forward. Butler's unfeeling stare fell on him, waiting to see what this stranger had in store for him.

"Gol Hah!" 

The room was illuminated for a split second with golden light from Marcus' shout. Butler gave a slight gasp. Slowly he sat up straighter. His eyes that had once stared with the intensity and focus of a hawk, became distant and unfocused and his mouth drooped open ever so slightly. His irises gave a slight flare of golden color before returning to normal. He belonged to the Dragonborn now. 

"What is your name?" Marcus demanded.

"Butler." he replied in a dead monotone, though his Orlesian accent was still apparent.

"Your real name."

"Gaston LaRoche." 

"Where are you from?"

"Montsimmard. Empire of Orlais" 

"You will answer all of Leliana's questions truthfully. If you are unsure, then you will answer to the best of your ability. Do you understand?"

"Yes." 

Marcus turned to Leliana "He's all yours." 

Leliana paced in front of the prisoner. His blank stare did not follow her, instead focusing on the light of one of the torches that adorned the wall. "Why did you kill Farrier?" she demanded.

"He knew that I had been turned from the Inquisition." Butler replied in his monotone "He had to be silenced." 

"Who turned you?"

"A Tevinter mage. His name is Silus. He exposed the lies of the Chantry to me and showed me the true path."

"And what path is that?"

"We now serve the Elder One."

"Who is this Elder One?"

"A being of immense power and knowledge. He will bring certainty where there is none. He has already shown me the falseness of your Maker and the falseness of your Herald of Andraste." Butler said without the slightest hint of emotion, his eyes still unfocused, gazing into the fire of the torch. "He will come for you and expose the falseness of your Herald. Then he shall throw open the gates to the Black City and expose the falseness of your Maker to the world. The Elder One will finally provide Thedas with the god that it so desperately needs. No more wars, no more politics or strife. There will finally be unity. One god, one nation." 

"How does the Elder One plan to accomplish this? Where is he now?"

"I do not know his plans or where he is."

"Was he responsible for the destruction of the Conclave?"

"Yes, it was to be the first step towards his victory, but something went wrong. I do not know what."

"How many followers does he have?"

"More than you or I know." 

"Do the Venatori serve him?"

"Yes. Silus is a high ranking member of the Venatori."

"Does Alexius lead them?"

"No, he only commands those in Redcliffe. I do not know the identity of their leader." 

"How did you serve this Elder One?"

"I was to learn the identities and covers of Inquisition agents in Orlais, and report them to Silus, who would attempt to turn them if possible or kill them if not. Farrier somehow learned about my betrayal and decided to confront me, so I slew him. I had not known that he hadn't come alone, so I was forced to flee." 

"How many of my agents have you betrayed to the Venatori?" Leliana demanded, her voice chilling to the bone, colder than an Ice Wraith. There an undertone of malice and fury that was barely discernible, but beginning to break through her masterfully crafted facade of calm. 

"Seven." Butler replied indifferently "From what I know, Silus failed to turn any of them. They either attempted to flee or to resist, and were all killed." 

"What can you tell me about Silus?" she hissed. Her gloved fists clenched and unclenched at her side as she paced in front of the chained prisoner.

"He is a tall, thin man, dark skinned and dark haired with light blue eyes and a scar that runs from his left ear to his chin. He travels across Orlais under the guise of a merchant. I do not know his route, other than that he stops monthly in Lydes, where I would hand off my reports to him." 

"What time of the month?"

"Typically the first week if he is not delayed. He stays there for two or three days before moving on to his next destination." 

"Can you tell me where he stays?"

"Yes, the same place every time. An inn in the Market district called the _Gilded Dragon_."

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Yes. He travels with no less than five bodyguards. All of them Venatori, though none are mages like him. I am also certain that he knows that I have been captured. It is unlikely that he will still be keeping to the same routine. I cannot tell you any more." 

"Then you are of no more use to me." A dagger materialized seemingly from nowhere in Leliana's hand. Before anybody could so much as open their mouths, she stepped forward, pressed the blade into Butlers neck, and slit his throat. He didn't make a sound as blood poured from the wound and the life left his body.


	20. To Killing a High Dragon!

Leliana let the crimson coated blade slip from her grasp and fall to the stone floor with a loud clatter that reverberated through the hauntingly silent dungeon. Blood flowed freely from the recently deceased Butler's throat, spurting ever few seconds from the artery that the Spymaster had sliced open. He knelt, slumped over his bindings as a pool of crimson began to form and then grow around his knees. The three of them stood in silence, processing everything they had just heard from the dead man. After a few moments, Leliana turned silently to the door and left the room, Cassandra looked at Marcus with an expression that was difficult to read, before following the other woman out the door. He gave the corpse one last glance before taking his leave as well.

Leliana strode down the long hallway towards the stairs, at the end of which, the two guards were chatting idly. When they saw Leliana coming they both snapped to attention.

"Butler is dead. I need the two of you to dispose of the body. Discreetly, if possible." 

The two guard looked at each other, unsure, one of them opened his mouth to say something but decided whatever was on his mind was better left unsaid. Without a word, they set off down the hall towards the Chantry's dungeon. Leliana watched them go then turned back towards Marcus and Cassandra. 

"None of what was said or done in that room can be repeated outside of the War Council." she said quietly and in a hushed tone. 

"Agreed." Cassandra said, watching the guards pull open the door and shut it behind them. "But you shouldn't have killed him. How are we to explain the body? Executing prisoners of war without a trial doesn't is frowned upon by most." 

"Let me worry about that." Leliana said. "It was my decision. I shall deal with the consequences." 

"What of the guards?" Marcus asked "They might have overheard something, and they know that Butler was still alive when we entered the dungeon and wasn't when we left. Are you willing to put your trust in them?" 

"As much as one can trust anybody in these times." Leliana said with a sigh. "Both of them are mine, and they understand that certain decisions, as unclean as they may be, need to be made. They won't say a word to anybody." 

"And what if they do?" Cassandra replied, crossing her arms  

"I believe Butler's fate should provide sufficient incentive for them to hold their tongues. No?" 

"If you insist, then I will trust your judgment. You know them better than anybody." Cassandra replied, her arms returning to her sides "Should we reconvene the war council?"

"Not yet. I... I need time to think, time to make plans our next move. It is needless to say, this interrogation has changed a great deal, as we now have a lead on our enemy."

Leliana turned and strode up the steps into the Chantry proper. Cassandra followed behind and finally Marcus. Everybody in the building glanced at them as they reached the top of the stairs, then suddenly looked away, pretending to pay them no mind. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since they had gone down those steps into the basement, but it felt like it had been far longer. Without another word, Leliana left the building, returning to her work space  right outside the Chantry's doorway. Marcus walked past her and moved down through Haven and out the gate into the training yard. His travel bag, containing his clothes, journal, and other assorted things sat before his tent where he had left it before the meeting He hoisted the bag over his shoulder and pushed through the flap. Marcus shifted his weight, rolled his shoulders, and stretched his throbbing back. His suit of Ebony armor weighed nearly a hundred pounds and he'd been wearing it all day. His body was beginning to punish him for it. With a low groan he sat down on his camp stool and began to remove the armor piece by piece. Long and lonely travels on the road had made him proficient in donning and removing the plate mail, and he was able to quickly remove it without the help of another person.

After he had removed and stowed the Ebony away, and changed into something more comfortable, he unlocked his personal chest to see that none of his belongings had been disturbed. The Elder Scroll and Auriel's Bow sat where he had left them, and everything seemed to be in place. Satisfied that nobody had been going through his potentially dangerous things, he sat down at his lectern where he kept a pen and inkwell. He had begun to write in his journal again, recording much of the events he had witnessed in the Inquisition, from the explosion at the temple all the way down to the slaying of his first High Dragon. If he ever made it back to Tamriel, he wanted to have a record of everything about this new land. After he finished writing he placed the pen back in the ink well, and left the half empty book open to allow the ink time to dry. 

As he stood, he felt an empty, gnawing sensation in his gut, and an very audible gurgle coming up from his stomach. It came back to him that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast this morning before they had returned to Haven. "Alright, alright. I'm going." he muttered to his gut, which just responded with an even louder rumble. He left the tent and nearly walked face first into Cassandra.

"Do you have a moment?" Cassandra said "I would like to speak to you about something I should have said long ago."

"Oh? Hmmm, sounds ominous." Marcus replied. 

"No,  nothing severe." 

"Alright, sure, I was just going to head to the tavern for some food and a drink or two with Bull and Varric." His stomach seemed to disagree, and roared in protest at the delay.

"Oh, umm, right. I had almost forgotten you'd only returned from the Hinterlands this morning. Go ahead and get settled in and relax. The matter isn't urgent." 

Marcus raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smile, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You're treating me like an actual human being? This is a rather bizarre change of character in you, Seeker Pentaghast. I'd love to hear this." He pushed open the flap to his tent for her and followed her inside. He pulled out an extra tent stool o

She sighed "You are right. I wasn't exactly the most... welcoming person towards you. I admit was suspicious of you, and of your motivations. I now realize that I wasn't entirely fair with you. Divine Justinia's death hit me harder than even I realized. I was her Right Hand, sworn to protect her from all foes, and I failed her. Until today, we knew nothing of who was responsible. I am a warrior, direct, and admittedly, rather blunt in my actions and words. I need my enemy to have a face. You were the easiest scapegoat. You just happened to be in Haven when the Conclave was destroyed. Despite having no reason to stay, you did. Nobody knew who you were, and you blatantly refused to tell anybody. So, in spite of everything you did for the Inquisition, I didn't trust you."

"You didn't seem so friendly this morning."

"I was more angry with the Herald than I was with you. Sometimes I think she doesn't realize how important she is. Or perhaps she chooses to ignore it. I'm just relieved that you were able to keep her safe when facing that dragon."  

"So what changed your mind?" 

"I suppose I started having doubts about your guilt when you finally revealed the truth, though it took some time. I'm ashamed it took me so long to realize that you had countless opportunities to sabotage the Inquisition from within and you never did. And now we know something of who our enemy truly is." she replied "I understand your reasons for keeping it a secret. Most people would think you to be insane."

He laughed "Half the Inner Council does already. They humor me, and go along with with what I've told them, but I have doubts that all of them believe me. I know for a fact that Sera doesn't. What was it that she called me? A _'crazed knob headed loony bin'_ or something like that?"

Cassandra chuckled "Yes, that elf certainly has a... unique vocabulary."

"So, do you believe me?" 

"Despite what the others may believe, you do not strike me as a madman." Cassandra said. 

"Well... thanks I guess."  

"That's all I wanted to say." she said, standing "Perhaps we could spar sometime. I never see you out in the training fields."

"That's because everybody pisses themselves when I go anywhere near them. Even the new recruits who've never even seen me in action seem to be afraid." Marcus laughed "But I'll be sure to take you up on that offer, after I've gotten something to eat. My gut feels like it is about to digest itself."

 "Well, I'm glad we have reached an understanding and I will take my leave." she turned but stopped, her eyes came to rest on his journal. She walked over to it to get a closer look. "I didn't know you write." 

"Yes. I've kept that journal since I left home. I've written down over fifteen years of my life into that book." 

"I'm sure it is a fascinating read." she said "I can't even begin to imagine the things you have seen and done." 

"Maybe if I were a better writer it would be." he laughed

"Perhaps if I gave it to Varric he could turn it into something more interesting." Cassandra said "Or more likely, he would inflate every little detail and turn it into something absurd."

"My life is already as absurd as it will ever be. Nothing Varric could do would make it any more so." Marcus replied. He had no intention of ever letting Varric, or anybody else for that matter, touch it. It was his place where he could record his own personal thought, his feelings, hopes, dreams, and fears. His pride, and his shame. He had only ever let Serana see what he had written in it but she was gone now. He picked up the large, leather bound book, and closed it, before placing it back in his chest with the Elder Scroll.

"Is that it?" Cassandra asked, looking past him. "That... artifact that brought you here?"

"Well, you're feeling particularly nosy today." Marcus quipped, shutting the lid and locking the chest with his key. "And the answer to your question is yes. The answer to your next question is no, you cannot take a look at it." 

"I wasn't going to ask." 

"Good. But in case you get any ideas, I should warn you that there is a high chance that you would go permanently blind from reading it." 

"Oh, well, I... um..." she looked at him and glared when he smiled at her. "You are toying with me aren't you?"

"Nope, dead serious. I saw it happen to a man name Dexion, and he was a Moth Priest." 

"Moth Priest?"

"A monastic order that dedicates their lives to reading and understanding Elder Scrolls."

"How were you able to read it?"

"I'm just unique that way, I guess." he said 

"Well, you certainly are different. I'll give you that." 

"I'm well aware." Marcus laughed "But thank you for taking the time to speak with me, and thank you for giving me a chance. I'll try to prove myself worthy of your trust." He let Cassandra out, then headed up back through Haven towards the Tavern.

The tavern was empty at this point in the day. Luncheon had been over for a while and the Inquisition's soldiers had begun their afternoon drills with Commander Cullen, followed by evening prayer at the Chantry. Flissa was in her usual spot behind the bar, wiping down the counter, she smiled and nodded at him when he walked past. He found Evelyn, Bull and Varric sitting at a corner table at the far end of the room away from the bar. Each of them had a mug in front of them and a fourth for him. In the center of the table was a basket with fresh baked bread rolls and a metal flagon. Marcus walked over to the table and took his seat next to the Herald before greedily grabbing the basket and digging into one of the rolls. 

"Nice to see you guys waited for me." Marcus said between chews. "Sorry about the delay." 

"It's a special occasion." Varric said. "Plus _Her Worship_ ordered us to wait." 

Evelyn glared at him before turning back to Marcus. "How'd...  _it_ go?" 

Marcus looked up at her and frowned. "Leliana will reconvene the council when she's ready. You'll learn everything then." 

"Big Inquisition secret?" Varric said with a sly smile. "Something you can't tell us?"

He glanced over at Bull, before returning his eyes to Varric and taking another chomp out of the bread roll. "I can't go into detail, but I will tell you we've learned some new information. It could help us a lot in the fight, and I think a lot is going to change pretty soon." he looked at each of them. "Just don't tell Leliana I said anything at all. She'll probably poison my breakfast." 

"You should know better than to try to slip anything past the Nightingale. But hey, it's your ass, not mine" Varric said. "Though there is one thing I've been meaning to ask. Why do you get to go to all the top secret meetings?" 

"Well, they've asked to speak with me a few times on important matters regarding missions I've been on, mostly because somebody else was otherwise incapacitated. Like when you broke your ankle, Evelyn, or when Cassandra was sick. After that, I kinda just kept showing up and they haven't asked me to leave." 

"I think that's enough talk." Bull demanded "We still have a dragon slaying to celebrate and the drinks are getting warm." 

"Yeah, about that Tiny, I've been meaning to ask you, what exactly is this shit?" Varric said. Looking at the slimy beige liquid sloshing around his mug.

"Maaras-Lok! It's a special Qunari brew all the way from Par Vollen. Was a pain in the ass to get my hands on it, but this stuff's damn worth it."

Evelyn held it up to her nose and took a whif of the alcohol before jerking her head away from the mug in revulsion. "Aghh, Andraste's tits Bull! Are you trying to poison us?! This can't possibly be safe to drink." 

"I know! It's great isn't it!" 

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna have to pass on this one Tiny." Varric said. 

"Me too." Evelyn said "I'd rather not kill my liver at twenty three. Besides, you can't imagine how scandalous it would be for the _Herald of Andraste_ to show up at evening prayer drunk." 

"Bah! You two don't know what you're missing out on." He turned to Marcus "What about you boss? You aren't gonna puss out like these two lightweights, are you?" 

He looked down at the drink, remembering Evelyn's reaction to just smelling it. For a moment he considered declining, but changed his mind. "Ah, fuck it." he said aloud, then muttered under his breath "Can't be much worse than the shit the Nords served in Skyrim." 

"That's the spirit!" Bull roared with a laugh. "To killing a High Dragon like warriors of Legend!" He lifted his own mug and chugged it down in seconds.

He finished the bread roll, and wrapped his fingers around the handle then lifted the mug to his lips. He'd been dead wrong about the it not being any worse than Nord drinks. It was one of the most intense sensations he'd ever experienced, like having an inferno ignited in his mouth, before the nerves in his throat died and his mouth went completely numb. Definitely far worse than anything he'd drank in Skyrim, but out of pride, and a lingering fear of being called a milk drinker, with a sputtering cough, he managed to keep the foul brew down. 

Bull laughed heartily. "I know right? Put some chest on your chest!" he hummed "That little gurgle right before it spat fire. And that roar! What I wouldn't give to roar like that! Taarsidath-An Halsaam!" he grabbed Evelyn and Varric's mugs and passed one to Marcus. "You know, Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred." 

"There was an ancient cult back in Skyrim thousands of years ago that worshiped dragons too." Marcus said "They helped enslave and rule the rest of humanity in exchange for power." 

"Well, technically we don't worship dragons, and I'm not gonna get into an argument with you guys about the enslaving part."   

"That thing you said..." Evelyn began "You shouted it during the fight too. What does it mean?" 

"Oh... Taarsidath-An Halsaam? Closest translation would be ' _I will bring myself sexual pleasure later while thinking about this with great respect.'"_

"And you shouted that during the fight, Tiny?" Varric laughed.

"I know right?!" he gave a satisfied grunt. He lifted the second mug and downed it just like the first. Marcus followed suit. This time it went down easier, though that was probably because he'd lost all feeling in his face, chest, and gut. He slammed the mug down on the table. His head was starting to swim and he could swear that the room around him was starting to spin in circles. Varric and Bull across the table started to blur in and out of focus.

"Yeesss! The second cup's easier. Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first." the Qunari spy laughed "Ataashi. 'The Glorious Ones.' That's our word for them. Ataaasheeee." 

"It's too bad we had to kill it." Evelyn said despondently. "In a strange way, they're kind of beautiful, majestic even." 

"Yeah, they're on hell of an animal. The embodiment of raw power. But it's all uncontrolled, savage. So, they have to be destroyed. Taming the wild, order out of chaos." He poured another mug for himself and Marcus. "Here boss, have another drink." 

"Ah, I probably shouldn't. I mean, who gets drunk in the middle of the day? " he muttered, his speech slightly slurred, but against his better judgment he did anyways. He didn't even feel this one go down, almost all feeling in his body had gone dead. He wasn't even hungry anymore. He slammed the mug down again and Bull laughed.

"Nice! To dragons!" he drained his third mug, giving a satisfied sigh, immediately followed by a loud sputtering cough.

"To finding the biggest, baddest things out there and killing them with funny magic words!" Marcus laughed, before letting out a long, belch that resounded across the empty room.

"That's just you Silver Tongue. Us normal folks can't do that sort of thing." Varric said.

"Oh, right..." 


	21. Sparring Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much going on plot wise. Just a friendly sparring match between Marcus and Cassandra

It was late morning. The clouds had parted and the sun shined brightly on the small mountain settlement. The Breach could be seen clearly, lingering over the hills where the Temple of Sacred Ashes had once stood like an ugly pale green blemish on an otherwise flawless span of pure blue. Haven's training grounds were all but empty. Thanks the the clear skies, and warm (relatively speaking) weather, the Inquisition's recruits had been taken out into the mountains for field maneuvers that would last for several days, by the Templars who ran their intensive training regimen. Commander Cullen had been forced to remain behind, much to his chagrin, in order to help plan the Inquisition's strike against the Venatori stronghold at Redcliffe Castle. Josephine had received a reply from Arl Teagan expressing his appreciation for the Inquisition's aid, as well as detailed information on the inner labyrinth of the castle's layout. This included secret entrances, underground tunnels, and hidden passageways for use by Inquisition agents. All this was added to by Leliana's memory of the fortress from the time she had spent there during the Blight. The spymaster had a natural eye for detail, and a nearly flawless memory, both of which added to her already formidable set of skills. Dorian had arrived several days before, having escaped Redcliffe with a warning them about Alexius and the Elder One, which was nothing they didn't already know, but in spite of this, they welcomed his personal knowledge of the Tevinter Magister, as well as his not insignificant magical talents, even if it meant they had to put up with his arrogance. Though, it had been decided that he would be joining them when they moved on the Venatori. Dorian still believed that he might be able to talk some sense into Alexius, and it was worth a chance. 

It had been several weeks since Evelyn had left for the Storm Coast to deal with the Darkspawn that had been sighted there, taking with her Vivienne, Blackwall, and Iron Bull. She had reported back their success in sealing the tunnels the Darkspawn had used to crawl out of from the Deep Roads they had infested for a millennium, and that they had also spotted a High Dragon flying over the area, but had chosen to leave it alone, much to Bull's disappointment. They were returning to Haven and were less than a week away. The plan was to move on Redcliffe immediately, to avoid giving Alexius time to strengthen his position, or enact whatever sort of plan he had in mind. As for the Elder One, Leliana's attempts to track down the Venatori called 'Silus' had been unsuccessful, as the deceased Butler had predicted, though she hadn't given up on finding him yet. While the Spymaster, Ambassador, and Commander did their duty, and moved their pieces across the board of Thedas, all the rest of them could do was sit and wait for what was to come. If everything went according, they could seize the castle quickly and with minimal bloodshed and take the Magister into custody for interrogation. But most of them knew that things never went perfectly. After all, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Leliana hadn't been able to infiltrate any spies into the castle's support staff. All of Teagan's people had been thrown out along with their Arl and Alexius had replaced them all with his own people.

While they knew the layout of the castle they knew nothing of the Venatori's numbers, or what defenses they might have been creating in the event of an attack. Everything hinged on the Magister's obsession with Evelyn. She was the key to getting into the castle, and bypassing all of the formidable defenses, both man made, and natural the castle possessed. Her arrival would mean that the Venatori's focus would be solely on her, which would give Leliana's agents the window of opportunity they needed to sneak into the castle through the secret entrances that Arl Teagan had shown them. Marcus had little doubt that if the plan fell apart, and the fortress had to be taken by storm, he could break the castle's defenses himself, but they still knew little of Alexius' plans or what he was capable of with his new found time manipulation abilities. It was abundantly clear that caution was needed for this mission. 

Marcus had always found the waiting to be the worst part. The insufferable nervous gnawing in his gut as the time for the battle inched closer. It gave him too much time to think, too much time to dream up every possible scenario where things could go wrong. Without any sort of distraction, a soldier could very well drive themselves mad with the anticipation, or dread, of battle. That was why he found himself on the training field, wearing padded leather armor that was too small for him and a half helm that didn't fit well either, wielding a blunted iron sword that just didn't feel right in his right hand, and a round shield in the other that felt too light and flimsy, staring down a similarly garbed Seeker Pentaghast. 

"I'm starting to wonder why I agreed to a sparring match." Marcus said, shifting uncomfortably as the leather squeezed his torso.

"You spend all your time in Haven sitting around, doing... whatever it is that you do." she replied "How are you supposed to stay in shape and keep your swordsmanship skills at their best when you do not spend any time training?"

"Fair enough, but couldn't you have at least found some armor that actually _fits_ me?" 

"I didn't realize you were going soft."

"Hardly. I just like to be able to move without having my chest feel like I'm being bear hugged by a frost troll."

"Frost troll?"  

"Forget about it." 

"So are we doing this or...?"

"Yeah, just give me a little more time to... adjust."

"In real battle, your enemies won't wait for you to make yourself comfortable."

"In real battle I could kill my enemies with a word." 

"True, but what about situations where your magic simply isn't a viable option. You need to know how to rely on your blade to keep you alive."

"You're treating me like some raw recruit, and not somebody with over a decade and a half of combat experience." Marcus retorted. "I've spent the last five years wandering Southern Thedas during a mage rebellion where revealing that I had magic would have presented some rather serious problems. I know damn well how to use a sword." 

"Alright, then prove it." Cassandra demanded. She took her combat stance, shield held between her and Marcus, sword at the ready. Marcus shrugged, trying to ignore the fact that he could barely breath and took his own stance. They began to circle each other, studying each other's movements, trying to size up the other's potential advantages and disadvantages. Marcus was taller, stronger, and had greater reach, but lacked the Seeker's brutal training regimen.

Cassandra lunged first, stabbing forward towards Marcus' gut with her longsword. Marcus brought his shield up, angling it against the thrust, and shunting the blade harmlessly off to the side. He immediately responded with a low swing towards the Seeker's thigh, but Cassandra gracefully danced backwards away from the blow, and out of Marcus' reach. Since learning that he was Dragonborn, his sword technique had become sloppy and less coordinated, as he started to rely more and more heavily on the Thu'um to either enhance his abilities, or outright annihilate his opponents. Had he been sparring with Cassandra when he first arrived in Thedas, the fight would have been over quickly. But during his first five years in Thedas, he had been forced to relearn much of what he had forgotten when magic simply wasn't an option. 

"It's about damn time." a familiar voice called out from the sidelines. "I was starting to wonder if you were gonna fight or just stand there arguing like an old married couple." 

"Shut it Varric." Cassandra growled as she blocked a strike from Marcus aimed for her left shoulder. She pivoted away, trying to get around Marcus' shield. Thinking she had an opening, she lunged again, swinging at his exposed flank, only to have her opponent's blade come around and meet hers, locking them together. Shields and bodies pressed together, both of them fought to overpower the other, but it was hardly an equal match. Marcus shifted his weight and planted his foot behind him, before shoving off of it and throwing the Seeker off of him. She stumbled backwards, trying to regain her balance before he was upon her again. In a flurry of blows against any unprotected part of her body, he kept her on the defensive, as she blocked, parried, and dodged his strikes as the clash of steel echoed throughout Haven. She couldn't get close enough to strike back, Marcus being careful to keep her at arms length as he tried to work his way around her defenses. As she ducked a horizontal strike, the weight and momentum of the swing threw Marcus momentarily off balance, she kicked out, her boot connecting with his leg. Marcus stumbled, and fell but rolled with the momentum of his fall, and was back on his feet, sword at the ready, in seconds. Cassandra didn't immediately press the advantage, instead taking a moment to catch her breath while Marcus did the same. A small crowd had gathered, joining Varric in watching the show. Marcus could hear them chatting, making bets on who would win. He quickly tuned them out, their voices became nothing more than white noise in the back of his mind.  

Cassandra made the first move, closing the distance between them dancing around him in circles, trying to find a weakness in his defense. She knew better than to clash together like they had done before. The disparity in strength between them was too great for her to have any hope of defeating him with brute force. Staying out of his reach, and darting in and out with quick slashes and jabs she tested her opponent, working hard not to repeat the mistakes she had made before. She had spent a significant amount of her training learning how to read her opponent. Body language, facial expression, even their breathing all gave hints about them that she could exploit. Some of these signs were rather obvious. Slumped shoulders, labored breathing, slower and weaker strikes all pointed towards exhaustion. Grunts, grimaces, and certain body movements allowed her to predict not only when her opponent was about to strike, but also where, allowing her to easily counter the blow and retaliate when they were thrown off balance. Marcus was less obvious than most, but the signs were still there. His stamina was impressive, very much so infact, he gave almost no signal that he was beginning to tire. Both of them were accustomed to fighting in heavy armor, and fighting in nothing but a leather jerkin took some getting used to, as it wouldn't be able to shrug off blows like plate mail. But there was something she noticed. A slight grimace when he lifted his shield, and a barely noticeable decrease in the speed of the reactions with his left arm, likely due to an old injury. This was something she could exploit. 

Cassandra continued her assault, darting in and out, striking quickly and precisely, but her blade was always met by her opponents, parrying, or blocking. Marcus countered, knocking Cassandra's blade to the side with a swing of his shield before striking out at the seeker with his own. She pirouetted away from the strike and feigned left, trying to fool him. It worked, he turned and swung again, only catching air as Cassandra spun right. She slashed hard with her blade, landing a blow against Marcus' left arm a few inches above the elbow. While the dulled blade prevented it from biting deeply, it was enough to break the the skin, and a steady trickle of blood started to flow from the wound. Marcus hissed in pain, and gave the wound a quick glance before turning back to Cassandra. She stood ready for whatever he had in store, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Just then a golden light began to glow in his left hand holding the shield, before quickly making its way up his arm to the bleeding slash wound. The bleeding stopped as the skin began to stitch itself back together nearly seamlessly. The only sign left that he had even been wounded was the tear in the fabric of his shirt and a small blood stain.

"Wouldn't want that getting infected now, would we?" he said. He flexed the arm, rolling his shoulder before returning her smirk. "Feels as good as new." 

"Are you certain?" she retorted "From where I'm standing it seems like you are starting to lose your grip. Perhaps you should forfeit. There is no dishonor in losing to a woman, after all." 

"Not on your life." They clashed again, with a seemingly renewed vigor. Blade clashing against blade, slamming into shield, or simply cutting through air. The crowd had nearly doubled in size over the course of the fight. The cheering and taunting was gone now, everybody standing in silence at rapt attention, waiting for one of the combatants to make a mistake, or tire out, and for the fight to finally have a victor. What had started out as a private sparring match became a village wide event with nearly everybody left in Haven attending. Even the birds seemed to be silent, the only sounds anybody could hear being the clash of steel, and the crunch of boots in the snow. Cassandra resorted to her quick, hit and run style attacks, very similar to what a rogue might do with a pair of daggers against a slower heavily armored opponent, but Marcus managed to keep pace with her, not falling for any more of her feigns. With a growl, he closed the distance between them with a single bound, and slammed shield first into Cassandra before she could slip out of his path. Cassandra immediately started to give ground as Marcus used his superior strength to push her back. She felt her rear slam into something solid as Marcus slammed her up against one of the training dummies at the edge of the sparring grounds. Her shield was locked against her chest by Marcus' weight and her sword arm was pinned to her side. She was running out of options. 

"Do you yield?" Marcus panted, his face inches from hers, a bead of sweat trickling from his brow. "After all there's no dishonor in losing to a mage, Seeker Pentaghast." 

The Seeker didn't respond with words. Instead, she slammed her forehead against the Dragonborn's nose, with a sickening crunch and a spurt of blood. Marcus cried out as much in surprise as in pain as he staggered away from the now free Seeker. She wasted no time in pressing her advantage over her stunned and disoriented opponent. With a powerful and swift strike, she knocked his blade from his hand then swept his legs out from under him with a solid kick. Marcus landed hard on his back with a grunt. Cassandra pinned his shield arm to the ground with her boot and placed the edge of her blade against his throat. 

Marcus laughed through gasping breaths "You surprise me Seeker. I never though you would fight dirty." 

She smirked down at her defeated opponent. "Whatever it takes to achieve victory." 

"What a coincidence." he inhaled "Zun Haal Viik!" Cassandra's sparring blade was torn from her grasp and sent flying several yards away. He sat up and with his freed hand grabbed the Seeker's ankle and yanked her off feet, she shrieked as she landed with an audible thud in the snow beside him, gasping from the blunt force of the impact. For a moment, the two of them just lay there in the snow, trying to catch their breath. Marcus managed to stagger to his feet first, wiping the blood from his broken nose. He looked down at Cassandra. "How about we call it a draw?" he said, offering her a hand. 

"Yes. I don't think I have any more left in me to give." she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. She looked up and his face and frowned. "I'm sorry about that." she said, gesturing to his nose. 

"Don't worry about it, I've been hit much worse than this." He pressed his hands to the bridge of his nose and forced it back into place with an audible crack. There was a wave of disappointed murmurs emitting from the crowd surrounding them, and they began to break apart, returning to their own business. The sound of crunching snow coming their way caught their attention and the two combatants looked up to see Varric making his way towards them.

"Damn you two, that was a little intense for a sparring match." he laughed "Shit, for a while there I thought you were actually trying to kill each other." 

"Maybe we got a little... carried away." Cassandra replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head

" _A little carried away?_ Now that there's an understatement. When you broke his nose... shit, I could hear the crunch from where I was standing!" he sighed "Shame you had to end it with a draw, I had a lot of money riding on the outcome."

"Who'd you bet on?" Marcus 

"Believe it or not, I've made some rules to act as... guidelines in my life. Stay the fuck out of the Deep Roads. Don't piss off my brother. Try like hell to avoid getting into getting into dangerous situations with demons, and holes in the sky. But my number one rule? Never bet against the Seeker." 


	22. The Best Laid Plans

_Dark storm clouds rolled across the sky. The winds ripped, whistled, and tore through the air, whipping their cloaks and biting at any bit of exposed flesh it could find. Snow began to fall to the ground, before being taken and flung about wildly by the powerful gusts of air. Before long the snowfall began to pick of speed, with what was obviously the first breaths of a blizzard._

_"Wonderful." Serana muttered dejectedly "Skyrim has decided to bless us with more of its ever beautiful weather. We should find a cave before it gets worse. Wait for this storm to blow-"_

_"Lok Vah Koor!" Immediately the snow stopped. The wind died down to a mere breeze, and the clouds parted then dissipated into nothing._

_"over..." Serana finished, gazing up at the now clear sky. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as the day began to transition into evening over the tundra of the Pale._

_"There's still some daylight left, and I don't want it going to waste." Marcus said. "Solitude's still a long ways away, and a storm would make us late to Elisif's coronation." The Moot had convened a few weeks before in Solitude, and the Jarl's had elected Elisif as High Queen almost unanimously. As a Legate of the Imperial Legion, and a Thane of Solitude, Marcus had been sent an invitation to her coronation. The courier from Solitude had found them several days before in Dawnstar._

_"Then why in Oblivion are we walking?" she demanded "We could have rented some horses, or a carriage and gotten there in half the time!"_

_"Equally important to arriving on time is not arriving there too early." he said "I want to spend as little time with the nobility of Skyrim as possible."_

_"You don't seem to have a particularly high opinion of your social equals." Serana said with a sly smirk._

_"I may be a noble in title, but we don't have a lot in common." he replied "They're nothing but a bunch of sycophants, scrambling over each other to kiss the new High Queen's ass in the hopes that she marries one of them. It's pathetic."_

_"Then why go at all?" she asked "It's not like they can force you. Or better yet, why drag me along?"_

_"I'm the reason Elisif has her throne." Marcus explained "I bled and spilled the blood of countless people to see Skyrim remain in the Empire. I'll be damned if I don't at least get to see if it was worth it."_

_"Do you have doubts about her?"_

_"Well, let's just say that  I don't think Torygg chose to marry her for her diplomatic nature or astute political mind... But she has Tullius and Falk advising her, and she is smart enough to heed their advice, so there may be hope for this country yet." he paused and smiled down at her. "As for why I'm dragging you along, the invitation said I am allowed to bring a single guest, and I don't think I have the strength to face this rabble alone. Besides, if it wasn't you, I'd have to bring Farkas instead, and we both know how that would end."_

_Serana laughed, the sound like the sweetest music to his ears "Yes, I'm sure the royal court would just love him." she paused thoughtfully "Maybe you should have brought him instead. At least the night would be that much more amusing."_

_"More likely somebody would say something that made him angry, there'd be a political incident, and we'd both end up exiled."_

_"At least you wouldn't have to attend anymore dinner parties with Skyrim's finest."_

_"Yeah, there's that."_

_The temperature was dropping rapidly, and it was getting too dark to continue. They moved off the road, searching for shelter from the freezing Skyrim night, and before long they found a cave under an overhang a few hundred yards off the road. It wasn't particularly deep, or roomy, but it offered excellent protection from the wind, and was blessedly uninhabited. While Serana got to work setting up their camp, Marcus ventured into the nearby woods searching for something dry to burn. Anything on the ground was too wet to burn, so he resorted to breaking branches and peeling bark from the trees. Of in the distance he heard the mournful howls of a wolfpack. He silently told himself to remind Serana to put up wards at the entrance of the cave._

_When Marcus couldn't carry anymore, he set off back to camp with his armload of dry firewood. He stopped briefly at the entrance to gaze up into the heavens. The aurora shown brightly this night, a brilliant swirling and swaying mixture of greens, blues and whites, sometimes even purples and oranges. It never failed to leave him speechless, no matter how many times he saw it. Serana came out from the back of the cave, fur cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She looked up into the sky and smiled._

_"It's beautiful isn't it?" She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and they just stood there for a moment in silence, enjoying one of the natural wonders of the world, enjoying each others company. After some time, she took his arm in hers and led him back into the cave. "Come on, let's get the fire started and warm up inside. I'll make us something to eat."_ _She had cleared out a space and laid out their bedroll and moved a few rocks into a circle for a makeshift fire pit. As they passed into the cave she placed several wards round the entrance._

_"Isn't it my turn to cook?" he asked with a teasing smile. He knew very well that she forbade him to even touch the food after the last time he'd cooked for them. He'd under cooked the pheasant he had shot, and she'd violently sick for days, unable to eat anything, and barely able to even drink water. Marcus hadn't even gotten so much as a stomach ache._

_She mock laughed at him "Very funny. You're never cooking another meal for us again after that disaster with the pheasant." she knelt next to his traveling pack and pulled a cook pot and some salted venison and vegetables carefully wrapped and packaged, as well as a cooking stand to hold the pot above the flames. Marcus dropped the firewood to the ground and started stacking it carefully into a square cabin._

_"It tasted fine to me." he shrugged "Maybe you just aren't used to decent food after surviving off of nothing but human blood for hundreds of years. Besides, what would miss vampire princess know about making a decent meal?"_

_"Decent food? Marcus, you know I love you Marcus, but honestly compared to you I'm the Gourmet!" she snorted "And it's not like I had much of a choice traveling with you. It was either learn how to cook quickly or starve."_ _Serana started cutting the potatoes, carrots, and venison into smaller pieces then dumped them into the pot along with a bit of water._

_"Well, I tried." he said innocently._

_"And I honestly don't know how you didn't poison yourself."_

_"I guess I'm immune to my own terrible cooking." He finished stacking the wood and stood back from it while Serana set it ablaze with a gesture. They moved the pot and stand over the fire, and Serana got to work stirring it with a spoon. Marcus went back to his pack and pulled a bottle of red wine from the vineyards of Skingrad, and two pewter cups. He poured for both of them and handed one to Serana, she took it gratefully and drank a sip before turning her attention back to the stew. While she cooked Marcus stripped off his steel plate armor and began to take inventory of their supplies. They had stocked up on food and other essentials before leaving Dawnstar and that had only been a few days ago. They were in good shape until they reached Morthal, then they could make the final leg of the journey to Solitude. By the time he was finished, the food was as well. Serana filled two bowls and crawled over to sit beside him._

_"Marcus." she said, pulling his attention away from his meal as he put a spoonful into his mouth._

_"Hmm?"_

_"I..." she paused, trying to find her words "Have you ever thought about just putting an end to all of this?"_

_He swallowed "What do you mean?"_

_"Putting an end to the constant traveling, all the fighting, killing, and politics." she sighed "Settling down, just you and me, somewhere far away. I've been thinking about it a lot since I became human again. About building a little house on a lake somewhere. I could grow a garden like my mother, and we could watch the sun rise over the water. We could live our own lives without constantly being pulled in every direction by somebody who needs some trivial problem solved. We could be at peace."_

_He snorted, without meaning to. "I think I'd go mad with boredom."_

_"I'm serious." she was hurt and a sudden wave of guilt washed over him._

_He sighed "I know you were Serana, and I have thought about it, more often than I would admit. But do you honestly think that I could just retire from the world like that? Do you think you could?"_

_She paused, thoughtfully, contemplating for a moment. "No... I'm not sure that I could. It was just a thought. Nothing more."_

_They finished eating and set the dirty dishes off to the side to be cleaned in the morning. Serana dug through her own pack and pulled out a book she'd been reading, A Brief History of the Empire: Vol 4. She was curious about all the things she had missed during her time sealed underground, and Marcus was the only person she could ask. Eventually he had taken her to a bookstore in Whiterun where she'd nearly run their stock dry. On that day, Marcus discovered her passion for reading, and since then her collection of books had grown until she became a veritable walking library. He wasn't complaining, of course. Having that much knowledge readily available at one's fingertips was undeniably useful. Marcus took up his blade of Skyforge steel, and laid the flat end across his knees and started to work the edge with a whetstone, as he did every night before he went to sleep._

_Serana sat down beside him, leaning against his shoulder, long, slender legs stretched across the stone floor of the cave, book opened in her lap. She'd only just started reading it a few days ago, and she was already nearing the end. Within a few minutes he'd finished his work on the blade. Satisfied with the edge, he set it aside and gently wrapped an arm around Serana's waist, pulling her closer to him. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and was going back for a second when she turned her head and captured his lips with her own, placing her hand against his cheek. He could smell lilac and mountain flowers in her hair, feel the warmth that radiated from her body. Serana broke the kiss, but her hand didn't move from his face. Her piercing green eyes stared into his._

_"I don't know where life will take us, but it doesn't matter. I want you to know that I will be there with you every step of the way. No matter what happens."  She kissed him again before turning her attention back to her book. Marcus smiled and closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall of the cave, his arm still wrapped around her waist. They stayed like this for a while, simply enjoying her presence. She meant everything to him, and he would do anything for her. A short while later, her body went lax under his arm, and her breaths came out as soft snores._

_Careful not to disturb her, Marcus untangled his arm from her waist, he saved her page in the book and gently scooped her up in his arms. He carried her over to their bedding and laid her down with care, before tucking her in beneath the furs. Turning, he knelt and reached into his pack next to him and pulled out his journal and a piece of charcoal, flipping the book open to the first blank page. He began to sketch. He didn't draw very often, but the people who saw his work said he had a talent for it. He worked slowly, careful not to make any mistakes and displaying every detail with clarity. Satisfied with his work, he smiled at his drawing. A cabin, small and plain, perfect for two, sitting on the shore of a lake with mountains in the background and the sun rising just above the peaks. A small garden lay in the sunlight, blooming with flowers and herbs. He flipped the book closed and crawled into bed next to the woman he loved._

* * *

Marcus' eyes opened, as sleep slowly began to leave his body. None of this was familiar, the cave walls were replaced by the canvas of a tent. Serana was gone, and his tent was empty but for him. He was about to call out for her when his memory suddenly came flooding back into his mind. Skyrim was gone and Serana was dead. Marcus was in the Ferelden Hinterlands, just outside of the town of Redcliffe on the continent of Thedas. The Elder Scroll he had found in the Dwemer ruin had transported him here almost six years ago, tearing him away from everything he knew. He winced at being woken up, taken from a happy memory, being forced back into reality where everything he had known was gone and he was surrounded by people who knew nothing about him, who hated him for being different. No, that was wrong, not everyone hated him.

It was early dawn, with crickets no longer chirped noisily, and the birds had begun their morning songs, tweeting merrily in the woods around them. The rising sun shone through the thin fabric of his tent, illuminating the interior. In the corner before his eyes, sat his suit of armor, topped by the Otar's Dragon Priest mask. Marcus gazed at the mask, with discomfort, and it seem to glare right back at him. The metal face, with the barest semblance of a human, cold, and unmoving. Mocking him. He gave another groan and turned over in his covers, jamming his eyes shut and begging for sleep to take him again. He waited, and waited, but it was going to be another one of those sleepless nights that had become so common that they seemed to torment him more often than they did not. He laid still for a while longer, before he could no longer take it. Throwing off the covers, he fumbled around the tent for a shirt and threw it on, buttoning it up partway, before pushing through the flap of the tent and into the cool early autumn air. 

A small number of tents lay in the clearing, with no particular order to their placement. Marcus, Evelyn, Cassandra, Dorian and the infiltration team, personally lead by Leliana, had all set up camp together on the shore of Lake Calanhad, a few miles away from Redcliffe Village. Except for him, the camp seemed deserted, as the rest of the band seemed asleep, but he knew better. Leliana's scouts had formed a perimeter around the camp, hidden a short ways beyond the treeline, working all night in shifts to ensure nobody snuck into the camp. 

He made his way to the shore of Lake Calanhad, where a narrow sandy beach separated the wall of trees from the gently lapping waves pushing ashore before receding back into the lake. Off in the distance he could see Redcliffe Castle standing tall and formidable on its lone island, silhouetted by sun, a few pinpricks of light shone through the windows of the castle. Below the keep, on the opposite shore, he could see Recliffe Village. He stood in the coarse sand, before stripping down to his small clothes and diving into the water for an early morning swim to wake him up and push the sleep from his body. The lake water sent a chill through him that covered his flesh with goosebumps, but quickly receded as his body adjusted. He dove below the surface, grateful that Thedas lacked the Slaughterfish and Mudcrabs that plagued the waterways of both Cyrodiil and Skyrim. He swam beneath the waves, gliding smoothly through the water, watching as small fish darted out of his path. Soon his lungs began to ache from the strain and lack of air. He resurfaced, and gasped for breath. He brought his arms and legs up, forming a cross as he closed his eyes and began floating leisurely on his back, drifting with the push and pull of the waves. Since sleep decided to elude him, he ran through the plan inside his head again.

This was the day that it was going to happen When night fell, the plan was for The Herald, Cassandra, and Marcus to take a ferry from the village to the Castle Island, while the infiltrators, joined by Dorian, moved on the Island with their own boats brought all the way from Haven, rowing to the castle under the cover of darkness. While the main party distracted Alexius, they would sneak into the castle through a postern gate hidden in the cliffside on the southern end of the castle, then make their way through the tunnels beneath the fortress with Dorian neutralizing any magical defenses Alexius would have placed to block them. Then they would move on the throne room where they would assassinate Alexius' guards, and take the Magister into custody. It had taken a lot of careful diplomacy by Josephine, with some help from Leliana, but they had managed to convince King Alistair and Arl Teagan to pull the Ferelden army back, and allow the Inquisition to handle the situation. The King's only conditions being that once the Castle was taken, and the Venatori defeated, the castle would be returned to the Arl, and the mages who had violated the Crown's hospitality be removed from Ferelden entirely. It was a simple and straightforward plan, but there were far too many unknowns for anybody to be completely confident in the outcome.

Marcus stayed like that for a while, simply taking this lull in activity and stress to enjoy the peace, and meditate on the Rotmulaag, words of power. Paarthurnax had taught him how to overcome his primal instincts. How to control the urges to dominate, to abuse his power by seeking more. He was no different from any of the Dov in this. He had expanded upon his knowledge of the Thu'um with such rapidity, that he had surpassed the Greybeards within a year of learning he was Dragonborn. Within a decade, he had become the most powerful master of the Thu'um who had ever lived. In battle, he had to hold back from unleashing the full extent of his might, lest he kill his comrades as well as his foes. The insatiable lust for power was ever present, but he had pushed that demon down. It had taken time, and immense effort, but he had overcome the worst aspects of his nature, though he sometimes felt himself slipping back down that dark path. The stress of his entrapment in Thedas did little to put his inner turmoil to peace, but he could control himself, he had to. The Greybeards had given him training as well, in their Way of the Voice, using the Thu'um to commune with the gods, rather than solely as a tool of destruction. But prayer was pointless when the gods couldn't heed his words. These same gods who had taken Serana from him. 

He had lost track of time, when the  sounds of the camp beginning to wake up drifted over the water, disturbing his meditation. His eyes snapped open, and he realized that the sun had rose higher into the sky, and his time was up. Slowly, he made his way back to shore, and gathered up his clothes, using his shirt to dry himself off before pulling his trousers back on. He could hear voices coming from the camp, as well as the smell of burning wood and something cooking over the fire. On cue, his stomach gave a mournful grumble in complaint, demanding to be fed. He made his way back to camp, where his new found comrades waited for him. This day was just beginning, and there was still much to do before it ended. 


	23. A Fateful Meeting

The sun began to set in the west over the Thedosian horizon as the group made their final preparations to execute the raid on Redcliffe castle. Everybody was ready, physically, if not mentally. Weapons had been sharpened, armor had been checked and rechecked again, horses had been watered and saddled, and the plans to the labyrinth beneath the ancient keep had been read over a thousand and one times. All that remained was the wait until nightfall. The Andrastians, Cassandra, Evelyn, and most of the soldiers prayed together to the Maker, their heads bowed, while the Seeker lead the sermon, repeating the words she spoke. The Dalish among them recited their own prayers to the elven gods in their own strange tongue.

Marcus, in full plate mail sat in silence on an overturned log a ways away from the group, checking the pull strength of the bowstring on his Dwemer crossbow. Otar sat next to him on the log. He sensed movement behind him, and turned just as Dorian took a seat beside him. Marcus raised an eyebrow at the Tevinter mage. The two of them had spoken little during their travels to Redcliffe. 

"No last minute prayers for our victory?" Dorian quipped with a smirk.

"I've always found that it's a wiser policy to put my faith in the strength of my sword arm, rather than in the chance of divine intervention." Marcus replied, loading a bolt into the crossbow. He stood, aimed, and and fired it into a nearby tree. The bolt punched straight through the bark and buried itself up to the feathers in the wood. "Gods are somewhat unreliable." 

Dorian laughed "On that we are in agreement. I don't recall there being many battles that were won because one side prayed harder than the other." 

"Been in many battles?" 

"Well... I've been in a few..." Dorian asked suspiciously "I am curious as to why do you ask?"

"Combat doesn't exactly seem like a common occurrence for a pampered Tevinter noble." Marcus replied, strolling over to the tree and pulling the bolt from where it was embedded. "No offense." 

"None taken, and you're not entirely wrong. Most in the Magisterium prefer to let the poor do the fighting for them, while they give the orders from the safety and comfort of their manors, far away from any battle. It would be a terrible shame to get blood all over that expensive clothing. The stains might never come out." 

Marcus snorted "And I take it you're the exception?"

"I'm out here in this wretched country rather than sipping wine and ordering servants around in my family's vacation home on the Nocen Sea, aren't I?" he replied before muttering under his breath "Maker knows what I'd rather be doing." 

Marcus nodded "I can respect that. You gave up a lot, and are risking even more to do the right thing." 

"Not as much as you may think." he replied, with the barest hint of sadness in his voice before his normal tone returned. "Besides, I can't have you southerners thinking that all mages from Tevinter were scheming, power hungry slavers trying to take over the world." 

"Only most of them."

"Precisely, which is another reason why I am so exceptional." 

"Well, you're something, I'll give you that much." Cassandra's prayer ended, and Marcus looked up to see the groups breaking up to attend to their own duties. Cassandra and Evelyn were walking towards them. He stood up, grabbing the mask. 

"It's time to move. Is everybody ready?" Cassandra asked. 

"As ready as one could hope to be, waltzing into a cultist filled deathtrap." Dorian quipped. 

"No, we're the ones waltzing into the cultist filled deathtrap. You'll be sneaking in through the back entrance." Evelyn corrected, grabbing up her bow and slinging a quiver of arrows around her shoulder. Cassandra grabbed her shield and sword belt.

"Speaking of sneaking, where's Leliana?" Marcus asked, surveying the camp. 

"She wanted a moment alone." Cassandra said with a shrug. "But we need to leave now. Alexius is expecting us." 

"I'll find her." Marcus stated, dropping Otar next to the log and the crossbow next to it. "Which way did she go?" 

"Towards the beach, last I saw her." Cassandra said. Marcus nodded and set off that way, fallen leaves crunching beneath his feet. He found her where Cassandra said she would be, staring off across the lake at the castle that dominated the horizon. Her hood was down, and the sun glinted off of her red hair. He took a step towards her when his foot landed on a fallen branch and it snapped with a loud crack. The bard whipped around, dagger already in hand when she saw who it was. The dagger disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. 

"My apologies, I... didn't hear you." she said, before turning back towards the water. 

"I didn't mean to surprise you. Everybody's ready to go." Marcus said, moving to stand beside her. "Lost in thought?" 

"Memory." she admitted. 

"When you were here during the Blight?" Marcus asked. Leliana nodded somberly, giving a weary sigh then standing up straight. 

"Yes, but we have more pressing concerns than events long past." she said. "Come, let us end this." 

They returned to the camp where everybody was waiting. Marcus walked past them all to the log where he had been sitting and grabbed his crossbow and Otar, quickly, he slung the bow around his shoulder before going to where his sword belt and Spellbreaker sat next to his tent. He swung the shield around his shoulder next to the bow and looped and buckled the sword belt around his waist and hooked the mask to his belt. Cassandra and Evelyn were already fully outfitted. Cassandra had her own suit of steel plate and Evelyn had her lighter armor, better for moving quickly and with ease. 

"All right." Evelyn said with a sigh as the trio mounted their horses. "Let's get this over with. Good luck to everybody, and stay safe." 

"Same to you, Your Worship." Leliana replied, her eyes briefly met Marcus', before she turned away to lead the scouts and Dorian to their destination. Cassandra, Marcus, and Evelyn split off and made their way to the road towards Redcli village. Cassandra pulled her mount up next to Evelyn. 

"Nervous?" she asked gently with a small, understanding smile. 

"Not as much as I would have been a month ago." she replied, calmly. "It wasn't so long ago that I was hunting a High Dragon." 

"You did well. Kept your head,  and didn't panic." Marcus replied "You're learning and improving with each battle, and that's what will keep you alive." 

Evelyn laughed "With all the things I've faced in the past months, a few Tevinter mages should be easy in comparison. Right?" 

"It is unwise to underestimate your opponent. Tevinters have always been cunning and unscrupulous. These cultists will not hold back and you must be prepared for anything." 

"Cassandra is right." Marcus said "Stay focused. No matter what, do not let your guard slip." 

Evelyn's eyebrows rose in shock and she brought her little finger to her ear in a mock of cleaning it of wax. "Correct me if I heard wrong, but did the two of you just agree on something?" 

"We worked out our differences on the sparring field." Cassandra said "And we have come to an understanding." 

"Yeah, Varric told me." Evelyn snorted, her lips curled into a smile that shone in her eyes. "Said you really kicked the mighty 'dragonborn's' ass." 

"I'll admit she got a few good hits in on me, but it was a pretty even fight... for the most part..." Marcus replied, a little meekly. 

"You mean until she smashed your nose in with her forehead?" 

"Yes, until she smashed my nose in with her forehead." 

The Herald laughed "Maybe you should have worn that mask. With _your_ face, a broken nose just isn't doing you any favors." 

"I'll have you know that women in my world find me very attractive." 

"Do they now?" she said with a smirk "Got any juicy stories? I bet the Seeker would love to hear, judging by all those smutty novels she likes to read." 

Both Marcus and Evelyn burst into laughter at the Seeker's expense, and Cassandra's face turned a brilliant shade of red. "I haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about!" she said, her tone too high and her voice too loud. Her indignation only made her companions laugh harder. 

They were expected. A group of Venatori mages stood before the gate to the village and their leader stepped forward to greet them. He was a small, frail looking man, paler than many of his countrymen, and with a hooked nose and thin lips that seemed to be curled into an unending sneer. 

"Your Worship, it is an honor to have you in Redcliffe. I am Magister Marius. Magister Alexius is expecting you. If you would follow us, a ferry is waiting in the harbor to take you to the keep." His tone oozed of thinly veiled contempt.

The trio lined up behind the mages and followed them into the town through the opened gate and down the cobblestone road. As they rode around a bend flanked by a cliff, the lights of Redcliffe Village came into view. The sun had all but sunk beneath the horizon and darkness was swiftly overtaking the land. There was almost nobody in the streets, and everything was eerily quiet. As they came upon the village stable and dismounted, a stablehand took their horses and led them off to be watered and fed. The mage beckoned for them to follow and they made their way down to the waterfront where the ferry floated tied to the dock. The three of them boarded, the deckhands cast the ropes, and they began their slow voyage to the middle of Lake Calanhad.

The autumn night was cold, just above freezing, but under the layers of armor, leather, and cloth, Marcus didn't feel a thing. He looked up at the massive structure looming overhead. It was an impressive keep beyond a doubt. Incredibly well defensible on its little island where fresh water and fish to eat were in abundance. A protracted siege against such a formidable redoubt would end in absolute failure, with the defenders out waiting the besiegers or, if the assaulting commander were foolish enough, beat back any attempt to breach its walls. But there were measures that could be taken to neutralize the keep without taking it. The island, while excellent for defense, created greater isolation, and little means for sallying forth to harass the enemy. The keep could simply be bypassed by an invading force. 

Marcus wouldn't have been able to tolerate an enemy to the rear or his forces. He wouldn't have taken the chance of supply lines being cut by raiders operating out of a secure base, of a breakout attempt to reach allies and bring reinforcements. The castle would have been razed to the ground by the might of his Thu'um, and every inhabitant buried under thousands of tons of stone. There would have been far fewer risks than they faced walking through the front gate, but he had kept his mouth shut. There were things about him and his power he had no desire for these people to learn. The reveal of his power to effortlessly subvert the wills of other had been hasty, but had paid off with the information gained from Butler and he could count the people who knew of this capability on one hand. 

The boat finally reached the dock on the Castle's island and was quickly moored in place while a gangplank was extended for them to disembark. Marcus stepped down first, his left hand firmly gripping the hilt of his blade. His gaze shifted around the surrounding area as he counted the people there. There were many Venatori, though most of them were not mages. He counted archers, swordsmen, and a few wielding large two-handed axes. Off to the side he noticed a few of the rebel mages milling about, standing separate from the Venatori. They glanced uneasily at the new arrivals, and whispered amongst themselves. In all he counted about fifteen Venatori, three of them mages. 

"Right this way." Their Venatori guide, Marius said, snapping his attention away from his studying. The man led them through the opened portcullis of the castle and across the courtyard beyond. Marcus counted another thirty Venatori, six of them mages and he was starting to get a sinking feeling in his gut. There were certainly more inside, and Leliana, for the purposes of stealth, had only brought a relatively small number of trusted men with her. If things got ugly with Alexius, as they most certainly would, they might find themselves under siege, trapped within the throne room. If Marcus could kill the mages first, he would be able to deal with the others at his leisure, but protecting his companions could become problematic. 

They passed through the gates into the main keep, making their way through passage after passage lit by torches in sconces that lined the walls. Rebel mages taking refuge in the keep darted out of their way, passing them quickly or disappearing through doors that led to side rooms throughout the keep. Eventually they came upon the doors to the throne room, flanked by two Venatori soldiers. Upon seeing them approach, they pushed open the doors.

"This is where I leave you." Marius said in his snide tone. "The Magister is inside the next room."

Evelyn nodded and thanked him before the trio climbed the steps and entered the throne room. A fire burned in a hearth at the far end of the room, silhouetting the throne that once belonged to Arl Teagan. Alexius, his son Felix, and Grand Enchanter Fiona were all present. Two masked Venatori mages stood inside, arms crossed behind their backs, a man, likely a servant in the castle, judging by his garb, stood between the two. Marcus caught another two flanking the doors behind them. The heavy wooden doors groaned and clanked to a close behind them. 

Evelyn cleared her throat and looked at the servant. "Announce us." 

"The Magister's invitation was for Mistress Trevelyan alone. The rest will wait here." 

"Where I go, they go." She said in a tone that barred no argument. Marcus could tell from a slight inflection in her voice that she was trying her damned hardest to remain calm and to keep her voice steady. The servant caved with little struggle and motioned for them to follow. The climbed the steps to the throne and stood before Alexius himself as his Venatori took up position along the walls. Leliana, Dorian, and the others had damn well get there soon. 

"My lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived." the servant announced. 

"Ah, Lord Duronius, Lady Trevelyan, it's good to see you again my friends. As well as your... associate, of course." Alexius said, getting to his feet. "I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties." 

Fiona stepped forward, a frown creasing her brow as she addressed the Magister. "Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?" 

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives." 

"If the Grand Enchanter wants to be part of these talks, then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition." Evelyn replied cooly. A slight smile crossed Marcus' lips, she was improving greatly since he had first met her. The Grand Enchanter sighed in relief

"Thank you." 

The Magister seemed indifferent to the Grand Enchanter's presence. He turned on his heel and strode back to the throne, retaking his seat. His tone was light and welcoming. He wore a warm smile as he spoke. "The Inqusition needs mages, I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?" 

"I'm far more interested in discussing your time magic." Evelyn replied. The Magister's reaction was immediate. The smile disappeared in an instant, and his eyes hardened in an instant. 

"We have discussed this nonsense already. I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean." 

"They know everything, father." Felix said, and all eyes were drawn to him. 

"Felix, what have you done?" Alexius' tone began to rise. 

"Your son is concerned you've gotten involved in something terrible." Evelyn replied, her tone carrying a slight plead, or prayer that he could see reason. 

"So speaks the thief!" Alexius snapped "Do you think you could turn my son against me?" He stood up and moved towards them. "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark -a gift you don't even understand- and think you are in control?" 

"We know of the Elder One." Marcus spoke up for the first time, his voice carrying across the room. He couldn't help but smile as the color drained from the Magister's face. "We know it was he who killed the Divine and destroyed the Conclave. We know it is he who you and the Venatori serve. You are going to tell us how to find him." 

"How could you possibly... No, it does not matter. You cannot possibly hope to achieve victory here. The Elder One will rise, and none of you are worthy of anything more than to grovel for mercy at his feet!" 

"Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?" Felix begged, reaching out to the man who had sired him, had raised him.

"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliche everyone expects us to be!" A new voice called out. Dorian stepped from the shadows and into the light from an alcove in the wall.

"Dorian..." Alexius said, disappointment filling his tone "I gave you a chance to be part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes. He will make the world bow to Mages once again. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas." He turned his back on them to face the fire burning in the hall's hearth.

Fiona stepped up in defiance "You can't involve my people in this!" 

"Alexius. This is exactly what you and I talked about  _never_ wanting to happen!" Dorian said "Why would you support this?" 

There was a sharp whistle and a thunk, and Marcus looked over to see one of the Venatori drop to his knees, then collapse to the ground dead. An arrow stuck through a chink in his armor at the base of the throat. But Alexius took no notice, his focus was solely on Dorian and Evelyn. 

"Stop it father!" Felix begged "Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach, and lets go home." 

"No! It's the only way Felix!" Alexius turned to his son "He can save you!" 

"Save me?"

"There is a way. The Elder One promised, if I undo the mistake at the temple..." 

"I'm going to die!" Felix interrupted, his voice breaking "You need to accept that." 

"Seize them Venatori!" the Magister commanded, pointing a finger at Evelyn. "The Elder One demands this woman's life!" 

Sharp cries and gasps of pain filled the room. Leliana and her men had arrived, quickly dispatching the remaining Venatori. Alexius stared in shock as his men were cut down in front of him by the newcomers.

"Your men are dead Alexius." Evelyn stated "You can't hope to defeat us all."

"YOU... are a mistake." he hissed, an amulet materialized above his gauntleted hand, humming with magic. "you should never have..." 

"Golz Slen Nus!" Marcus shouted, shoving Dorian and Evelyn aside and out of his path. The shout struck the Magister directly in the chest, its effect was immediate. His flesh began to harden and grey as it turned to stone, leaving nothing but a statue, a look of confusion and pain frozen on his face, now as cold and as dead as rock. The amulet fell from his hand and clattered to the ground harmlessly, the Magister's magic dissipating into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golz Slen Nus - Stone Flesh Statue-  
> An original shout Marcus created. Taken from the Ice Form shout in game and made a little more... permanent.


	24. Liberating Redcliffe

"Andraste protect us." Cassandra breathed, her voice low and shaking "You turned him to stone..." Other than her outburst, the room was silent as a tomb. Nobody moved, but Felix, who took slow, uneven steps to where Alexius stood, the slain Magister's arm still outstretched towards his enemies as if beckoning them to approach. Alexius' amulet lay where it had fallen, as cold and dead as its master.

"Father..." Felix spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. He raised his hand to Alexius' face, feeling no life in his father. Felix turned towards Dorian shambling forward "He's...". The young man's legs gave out from under him and Dorian rushed forward, catching him beneath his arms and easing him to the ground. Felix's face contorted with grief as tears began to well in his eyes and Dorian hugged him as Felix sobbed into his friend's shoulder. 

"Maker's Breath." Evelyn muttered, staring at the statue that only moments before had been a living human being. "You... you killed him." 

"He would have killed the rest of us, given the chance." Marcus replied, he unhooked Otar from his belt and placed it against his face before working the buckles that held it on. "I did what I had to." 

"But we needed him alive!" Cassandra snapped "We needed him to tell us what he knew!" 

Marcus sighed, drawing his sword. Everybody took several steps back from him, all eyes but Dorian and Felix's fixed on him. "We can discuss this later. Our work isn't finished yet." As soon as he finished speaking the doors to the throne room shot open with a bang, and a dozen well armed Venatori entered the room lead by Magister Marius, this time, a staff in his hand.

"My lord, we heard a com..." When he saw Alexius, and the unexpected guests, his beady eyes widened in shock, and in fear. "Magister Alexius!" he cried, backing away as his compatriots filed past him into the room. "Kill them! Kill them all!" The Venatori advanced on them, Leliana and Evelyn nocked arrows to their bowstrings and took aim. Marcus stepped forward and, inhaled deeply, focusing more of his power into the Thu'um, then shouted. 

"Zun Haal Viik!" The wave of magical energy shot forth, rapidly spreading across the room before him. Every single Venatori in the room had their armament torn from their hands and sent scattered across the floor of the throne room with loud clangs that echoed off the walls. Before they could even comprehend what had just happened, Marcus was upon them, crossing the length of the room with a word. Wielding his blade with two hands, he cut through the defenseless Venatori with ease. Cassandra and the the scouts moved to engage while Evelyn and Leliana loosed arrows at any Venatori they had a clear line of fire at, dropping them with well aimed shots into the chinks of their armor at the throat, and under the arms. Before long only Magister Marius remained. In mad desperation, he fired spell after spell at the assailants, but in his fear he lacked focus and without a staff his magic was poorly aimed and ineffective. He turned in an attempt to flee, only to have Marcus run his blade through the man's back. With a choked gasp, Marius dropped to the ground as the dragonborn pulled his blade from his flesh. 

Marcus wiped the blood from his sword against the Magister's tunic and turned back towards the others. Two of the scouts had been slain by Marius' magic, and several others had been injured before Marcus could kill him. The uninjured tended to their wounds. Dorian was standing again, his staff in hand, but Felix remained inconsolable at the feet of his father's statue. The servant who had introduced them sat cowering in a corner. 

"That wasn't all of them." Marcus said, sheathing the blade "More will be coming," 

"There are too many of them." Evelyn said, she turned to Leliana. "Is there any way to make it back to the escape tunnel?"

"Not with the wounded."  she replied "And we can't leave. We still need your mages to help close the Breach, Grand Enchanter." 

"Of course, but there are more pressing concerns at hand." Grand Enchanter Fiona replied "All of our lives are at stake."

Leliana paused thoughtfully then looked back up at Fiona "How many of your people remain in the castle?"

"A few dozen. Alexius had them work for him as scribes and servants. Most of them are still in the village." she replied "But I don't see how-" she stopped as she realized what Leliana was insinuating. "You can't mean for them to help you fight the Venatori?" 

"That is exactly what I was thinking." 

"Most of them aren't fighters." she pleaded "They wouldn't stand a chance against these cultists!" 

"We don't have a choice." Cassandra said, sending an annoyed glance Marcus' direction. "We were going to use Alexius as a bargaining chip to force their surrender, but that is no longer an option." 

"We came here for refuge, to escape the fighting with the Templars." Fiona said with an exhausted sigh "My people have made enough sacrifices already for our freedom." 

"And you believed that you would be free under the Venatori?" Marcus snorted. 

"Allying with Alexius was your mistake, and you must make amends for that mistake." Leliana said "This is your chance to make things right." 

Fiona looked resigned "What are the terms of this agreement?" 

"That depends entirely on your cooperation." Leliana replied "If your people aid us in defeating the Venatori, the Inquisition is prepared to offer a full alliance with the rebel Mages." 

"A full alliance?" Cassandra scoffed "After everything the mages have done, can they be trusted with that sort of freedom?" 

Leliana gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "Perhaps a better time to debate the terms would be when we are not fighting for our lives. No?"

The Seeker grunted, then nodded her head in agreement. 

Fiona spoke again "I realize that I have little choice but to accept what terms are placed before me, but the problem remains. How are we to reach my people? They are spread throughout the castle, and it is likely that the Venatori apprehended them when the fighting started." 

"I will go with the Grand Enchanter." Marcus volunteered "We will scour the castle, clear all Venatori remnants, and free any surviving mages we encounter." 

"I shall join you." Cassandra stated, and Marcus nodded.  

"Hope you weren't planning on going without me." Evelyn said stepping forward with a slight smile, though it wasn't difficult to tell that she was shaken by everything that had happened. 

"No, you need to stay here where it's safe." Marcus replied "If you die, none of this counts for anything." 

"I risk my life every time I step out of Haven. Why is this time any different? 

"Yes, you risk your life, but never without need." Marcus explained "Your bow isn't of much use in the limited confines of the castle hallways. You would be more of a liability than an asset out there. From here, you have a good defensive position to protect the wounded and wait for us to return." 

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and wait while the three of you fight through dozens of Venatori? Why is my life more valuable than yours?" 

"You are the only person who can close the Breach, if you were killed now, every death that has gotten us to this point would have meant nothing." Leliana spoke up in agreement with Marcus. She  "Stay here, help tend to the wounded." 

Evelyn growled in frustration, but resigned herself to remain with the wounded. Some of the scouts began gearing up to join Marcus, Cassandra, and Fiona, but Marcus held a hand up to stop them. "No, stay with the Herald. It will be easier to move as a small team." None of them questioned his command like Evelyn had. Evelyn and Dorian began to do what they could for the injured, while Leliana, Marcus, Cassandra, and Fiona began to set a plan in place. 

"My people are likely being held in the dungeons beneath the west wing of the castle." Fiona said. 

"The fact that the Venatori have not attacked again indicates that they are waiting for us to come to them." Leliana stated thoughtfully "The question is where they plan to ambush us." 

 "I believe the central courtyard would be the most logical location. One must pass through it to reach the other wings of the castle or the main gate."

"Are there any ways to bypass the courtyard?" Cassandra inquired, rubbing her temples.

"None that I am aware of." 

"So we have no choice but to walk straight into the Venatori trap? Wonderful." Cassandra muttered. 

Marcus paused for a moment, pondering a solution, before speaking up. "I can clear the courtyard, forge a path for the three of you to reach the dungeons and free the mages being held prisoner, while preventing Venatori reinforcements from outflanking you." 

"Do you think you can handle this task on your own?" Fiona said, gazing at him skeptically. 

"It should be no trouble at all." Marcus replied "Killing happens to be my specialty. But the longer we wait here, the more time we give the Venatori to prepare."

"Agreed." Cassandra said "Let's get on with this." 

With that they set off, back through he doors to the throne room. They passed through the same winding hallways that Marcus, the Seeker, and Evelyn had taken on their way to their ill fated meeting with Alexius. This part of the castle seemed eerily devoid of life. Not a single Venatori or rebel mage met them along their path, but eventually they reached the small gate that led to the courtyard. It was closed, but not sealed. There they stopped.

"So, what is your plan how are..." Marcus held up a hand silencing her. She frowned but said nothing more as Marcus inhaled deeply and whispered his Thu'um.

"Laas Yah Nir." His eyes flashed red for but a split second before returning to normal. He began to stare at the wall, studying it closely, his head turning, seemingly scanning something that they could not see. The three women looked at him in confusion then glanced at each other uneasily until Marcus spoke up snapping them out of it.

"Looks like the Grand Enchanter was correct." he said quietly, his lips curled into a smile. "I counted no less than twenty Venatori outside the gate waiting for us." 

"Twenty?" Fiona said grimly "How many Venatori mages." 

"It doesn't work like that, I simply saw the life force of every living thing outside these walls." he replied. 

"So how are we supposed to deal with this?" Fiona inquired "We are outnumbered five to one." 

"It won't be a problem." Marcus replied, his voice calm, and as Leliana noted, void of concern. Either he was truly confident, or he was excellent at hiding his feelings in his inflection when he chose to. "I will go first. Stay in cover, and wait for their attention to be focused solely on me, then strike while they are occupied." He made a move to the gate but stopped himself short and turned back to his companions. "Things are going to seem... strange. Just go with it." 

Marcus inhaled again and shouted "Tiid Klo Ul!" Before pushing the gate open and bursting forth into the courtyard. The other three waited a few seconds, listening to the screams that assaulted their ears almost immediately before joining the fray. What they saw astounded them. To Leliana, Cassandra and Fiona, Marcus ceased to exist, replaced by a blur in perpetual motion. Venatori began dropping faster than than they could count and it was difficult to do more than stare at the morbidly fascinating scene playing out before them. 

As the Grand Enchanter was well aware, time dilation magic was hardly uncommon. Mages could cast small bubbles within which time was slowed, sometimes significantly, but it took immense effort and concentration to maintain them for anything more than a brief moment to give a mage combatant a slight edge in battle. But this was far more powerful, and incomparably effective. In what by their perception had been mere seconds, to Marcus it had been closer to two and half minutes as he moved across the yard, cutting down all in his path, the Venatori in the courtyard, numbering twenty three, including six mages, had been slaughtered to the last man.

The Thu'um wore off and time restored itself to normal. Marcus started towards him when something caught his eye. One of the Venatori was still alive, but severely wounded. The man made a desperate but futile attempt to escape, crawling away from the demon that had carved through his brothers like a farmer reaping the autumn harvest. With a few strides the Dragonborn caught up to the man, placing his boot to his back, stopping him dead. He placed the tip of the blade between the plates of the man's chest plate and plunged it through his back, killing him. Leliana noted there was no malice in his demeanor, no rage or passion. Just the cold indifference of a man who was finishing a task he had left uncompleted, and despite herself, it chilled her to the bone.

It wasn't the killing of the Venatori. That was a simple matter of "them or us". Rather it was how he had done it. She had never seen this side of him before. To her, he had always been easy going. Quick to smile, with a strong laugh. He had a warm, understanding and kind demeanor that made it so easy for her to open up to him when she had pushed so many others away. Though, this had been exactly why she had eventually pushed him away as well. This couldn't be the man she had made the mistake of allowing herself to become close to. Or perhaps he was. The signs had been there all along, ever since the Temple of Sacred Ashes. There had also been his battle against the Freemen of the Dales. There was little to gather from Cassandra's reports, and Marcus' brief and evasive explanation, other than the Freemen had been slain to the last man. Only Marcus truly knew what had happened, but Leliana could paint a pretty clear picture of what had likely occurred. 

Perhaps the methodical, passionless, and almost mechanical massacre reminded her too much of herself, and of her work as Justinia's Left Hand. Was this what she had allowed herself to become? What had happened in his life to leave him so indifferent to death? 

Marcus pulled the blade from the newly made corpse and wiped the blood off against his victim's trouser leg before sheathing it and making his way back to the others. 

"Like I said, not a problem." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some artistic liberty with Slow Time. Since we never actually have the shout used against us in game, I decided that it doesn't just slow time for those affected, it slows their perception of time as well. Which is why objects moving at normal speed seemed so much faster. Marcus wasn't moving any faster than he normally does, but in the eyes of everybody else he was.


	25. The Calm

The voyage back to Haven was defined by uncomfortable silence and stolen glances thrown his way, only to have their eyes dart away when his met theirs. Alexius was dead. His Venatori as well. The amulet he possessed had been confiscated by the Inquisition, and would be studied thoroughly by the organization's mages. Ferelden troops had arrived to secure and occupy Redcliffe while Arl Teagan reclaimed his throne in the castle. Under their oversight, the Mages, now conscripted into the Inquisition, began preparations to make the journey to Haven where they would be put under the Inquisition's jurisdiction. The arguments had been heated and tempers ran high with Leliana supporting an alliance and Cassandra supporting conscription, but in the end the decision was left to Evelyn, much to the Herald's chagrin. Cassandra's argument won her support, despite Leliana's and Fiona's protests. The mages had been of minimal use in defeating the Venatori, and the entire problem had been their making in the first place. If they wanted an alliance and the freedoms it entailed, they would have to earn it through service to the Inquisition and to Thedas. 

A small vanguard of Fiona's most skilled enchanters traveled with them back to Haven to lend their power in aiding the immediate sealing of the Breach. There was strong mutual distrust between the Inquisition's soldiers and the mages. Their rebellion had uprooted countless lives and had caused untold destruction across Thedas where Circles had existed, only adding more fuel to the flames of fear. 

Marcus was caught somewhere in the middle. He had supported Cassandra, agreeing that the mages needed to earn their freedom, but he himself was a mage and the events within the castle had earned him little trust, and had done nothing to ease the aura of fear that surrounded him wherever he went. The mages were angered by his lack of support, taking it as a betrayal by one of their own, despite the fact that he never considered himself to be. By all Thedosian definitions he was an apostate, and had been one since he arrived in Thedas a year before the rebellion began. Marcus also noted that there was a hint of jealousy directed towards him as well. He was free, given leeway to do as he pleased, while they were forced back into the servitude they had so desperately fought to end. 

Felix had returned home to Tevinter with his father's body. There were arrangements that needed to be made. Affairs of estate and inheritance that needed to be settled before the Blight sickness took him, and he joined his mother and father in death. Evelyn had told Dorian that she would understand if he wanted to return with him to the Imperium, but the young mage had elected to stay, so long as the Inquisition would have him, joking that they would be hopelessly lost without him. But Marcus suspected the reason was more personal. Perhaps Dorian saw this as his chance to atone for the mistakes of his deceased mentor. He and Marcus didn't speak for several days after Alexius' death. Marcus understood how he must have felt, and gave him space. Gereon had been a friend as well as a mentor, and his betrayal, as well as his sudden and unexpected death, justified or not, had affected him deeply. Eventually Dorian came to him.

One night as he was on watch leaning against a tree staring out into the dark of the forest listening to the sounds of the wild around them. Off, far into the distance a wolf howled, and was quickly joined by many others. As he listened, Marcus heard footsteps approaching and saw the silhouette, though he couldn't tell who it was. With a twirl of his wrist Marcus cast the candlelight spell which illuminated the surrounding forest and his mystery visitor. Dorian was carrying a bottle of white wine and two pewter cups in his hands. 

Marcus turned his head and watched as the mage approached. "Dorian." he said in brief greeting.

"Marcus." he replied, taking a seat on a flat rock, crossing his legs and uncorking the bottle with an audible pop. "Come join me for a drink." 

"What's this about?" Marcus asked, feeling more than a little suspicious. 

"I never truly thanked you for saving my life back in Redcliffe." he replied "I simply wanted to show my appreciation for saving what I value most." 

"That's hardly necessary..." Marcus started, but Dorian cut him off.

"But it is. I don't want you thinking that I blame you for Alexius' death." Dorian explained, though his voice became despondent and sad. "He brought that upon himself." Marcus nodded as Dorian poured a cup for both of them and offered one to Marcus. Marcus held his hand up, declining the offer.

"No, thank you." he replied "Drinking while on watch duty isn't exactly the best idea." 

"No? Ah well. I suppose I'll have to drink enough for the both of us then." He downed his own glass and started on the one he had poured for Marcus. There was a long pause as they sat in silence, listening to the world around them. Through the trees he could see the glow of the campfire and hear the low voices of people around the fire locked in conversation. 

"He wasn't always like that, you know." Dorian said, bringing Marcus' attention back to his companion. "He wasn't always a fanatic. It may be hard to believe with everything he said, everything he did. But Alexius was a good man once." he smiled "I remember he and I would stay up for hours, long into the night just... talking. Sharing discoveries, creating new ideas, discussing the future, even after my mentorship with him ended. He cared deeply about the Imperium and its people. He wanted nothing more than to make it a better place for everybody. To fight the corruption that had dug its claws into the Magisterium."

He sighed, pouring himself another drink. "The death of his wife changed him. Changed everything. He blamed himself, forgot everything he stood for. He was consumed with an obsession to save Felix, no matter the cost." he drank deeply from the cup. "We had a falling out. I wanted to snap out of it. I thought he was better than to let grief consume him. We fought for hours, and I ended up storming out of his villa. We didn't speak again until he approached me with an offer to join the Venatori. I realized then just how far he had fallen... but... but I thought that I might still be able to get through to him, to pull him back from the edge. What happened in Redcliffe proved just how wrong I was." Dorian shook his head "He would have killed me without a second thought, killed the Herald too and who knows how many others were it not for you." he put the cup down and looked Marcus in the eye. "So there it is. Thank you."  

Marcus nodded, feeling a brief moment of guilt as his heart skipped a beat in his chest. Here was a man he barely knew thanking him for killing one of his oldest and closest friends and all he could do was sit there in awkward silence, with his mouth hanging open listening to his words. It was confusing. Alexius was far from the first person he had killed, and his death had been far more justified than many whose lives he had cut short in the past. He tried not to think of those he slew, who they were, what their ambitions had been, their hopes and their dreams. Learning about Alexius, about the kind of man he had been made it difficult to treat him as just another necessary death. Marcus would have preferred it if Dorian simply hadn't said anything in the first place. And now Felix would spend his last days alone. The Alexius family would die with him. That Dorian came with them rather than return home to be with a friend during his final days surprised him.

"I think I'll take that drink actually..." he said. Dorian smiled and poured him a cup.

"Good man." 

Marcus took the full glass and returned to his tree, sliding down to the ground, with his back pressed against it, and looked down at it. The pale liquid sloshed around the glass. Dorian lifted the glass high in the air. "Here's to Alexius. The good man he was, not the man he became. May he finally find peace."

Marcus lifted his glass."To Alexius." They both downed their drinks and Marcus wiped the residue from his lips with his sleeve. "I'm surprised you didn't return to Tevinter with Felix." he said, lowering the cup to his lap.

"I can do far more good here in the south." Dorian replied "I have a feeling that this isn't going to end with the Breach being closed. Besides, I... I don't think Felix wants me around. I think he would prefer to be alone. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for him. Not being able to say goodbye." 

Marcus nodded in understanding. He and loss were as intimate as the closest of lovers.

Dorian poured for them both again then downed the his third cup and sighed contentedly "Well that's enough of this rather morbidly depressing talk." he set the cup down on the rock beside him, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, crossing his fingers. "You must tell me what is going on between you and our intrepid spymaster." 

Marcus frowned at him, setting down his own cup. "There is nothing between us."

"Now I don't believe that for a moment. I've seen the way she avoids your gaze. The two of you rarely speak, though come to think of it, neither of you speak to anybody much. You're like a couple of awkward teenagers too afraid to say anything to each other." 

Marcus sighed, a little annoyed. "There was something, not that long ago, but she stopped it before it went anywhere. Said she had to focus on her duties and couldn't afford a distraction." 

"And how do you feel?" 

Marcus paused for a moment, contemplating an answer. He sighed "It would have been a mistake. Too hasty. We only met a few months ago, and we still don't truly know each other and..." he paused, as an image of Serana flashed in his mind and his heart sunk into his gut.

"And...?" Dorian encouraged.

"And there are a number of complicated and deeply personal reasons that I have no desire to share with somebody I barely know." Marcus said, a little more harshly than he should have. 

"Ah, I see." Dorian replied, a little warily "Well then say no more. I won't trouble you with the issue any further. But I do think you should talk to her. The end of the world leaves so few opportunities for romance to bloom, wouldn't you say?" 

Marcus snorted. "I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a romantic." 

"Perhaps not. But you do have a unique sort of rugged, if unrefined good look, and a positively marvelous physique. Personality leaves something to be desired, however, but that can be fixed." Dorian replied with a teasing smile. "I jest, of course. But I meant what I said about talking to her. It's seems like she still feels something for you, and you wouldn't want to regret letting this opportunity to pass by without at least giving it a try." 

"Thank you. Dorian." Marcus replied, his tone indicating that he'd heard enough. The wine had given him a buzz in his head, and he suddenly felt very tired. He gazed up into the sky through the canopy of nearly bare trees above his head to judge the position of the moon in the sky. He realized that his watch shift had been over for some time and that nobody had come to relieve him and became mildly annoyed. He stood up, wobbling slightly before regaining his balance and handed his empty cup to Dorian, then stretched with an audible yawn. 

"Thanks for the wine. This has been an... enlightening experience, to say the least." He flicked his wrist again and the candlelight spell died, causing the world around them to return to darkness. 

"Any time." The Tevinter said with a warm smile seen in the fading light, he stood as well, collecting the now empty bottle and his own cup and the two returned back to camp together. The fire was dying, and everybody else had already gone off to bed, except for Cassandra who was clambering out of her tent, struggling to pull a boot on. Her sword belt was already secured around her waste.

"Sorry about that. I know I was supposed to relieve you, but I dozed off and.. overslept." She said with a sheepish and apologetic smile. Just then she noticed Dorian standing behind him, empty wine bottle in hand and her smile turned into a frown. "Were you two drinking while on watch?"

Marcus opened his mouth to explain, or apologize but Dorian beat him to the punch. 

"Just me I'm afraid. This one is no fun whatsoever, I offered and he refused. Man of duty, and all that nonsense." He put on a show of slurring his speech and staggering a little to the side before catching himself.  

Cassandra raised an eyebrow skeptically but didn't press the issue any further. "Make sure it doesn't happen again." She pushed past them to take her spot on the perimeter and Marcus mouthed a silent thank you to the mage before ducking into his own tent. He kicked off his boots, undid his sword belt and tossed it with the rest of his equipment before stripping off his shirt and crawling beneath his bedding. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

* * *

He awoke early the next morning as he always did. After throwing on a shirt, sliding into a warm fur coat, and pulling his boots back up his legs, he grabbed his crossbow, a quiver of bolts, and a dagger, then pushed through the flap of his tent back out into the early morning air. The sun had risen high enough that he could see his surroundings clearly. If he was going to be up so early, he might as well spend that time productively. The camp was deserted but for a few sentries a short ways into the woods nearing the end of their watch shifts. Some of them glanced back at him uneasily, but quickly averted their gaze when his eyes met theirs. Cassandra must have gone to bed some time ago. 

There was a small stream that ran parallel to the camp, and he decided it was the best path to follow on his hunt. He strolled past the sentries into the woods. Nobody tried to stop him, or so much as mumble a greeting, and he did the same. Once the camp was out of sight behind him, he unslung the crossbow from around his shoulder and loaded a steel bolt into it. The bow was hardly a practical hunting weapon. The powerful Dwemer designed weapon could reliably put a bolt clean through steel plate, but he was familiar with the weapon and he'd never been much good with a normal bow. 

Marcus traveled down the stream bed for a few miles, eyes glued to the ground, searching for any signs of animal life. Tracks, broken foliage, trampled grass, and fresh feces were all signs of the recent presence of an animal. He'd spent enough time in the woods during his first few years in Thedas to be able to tell the signs of most animals apart. Al the while he kept his ear open, listening to the sounds of the woods around him. There were bears and wolf packs roaming the Ferelden Hinterlands and the last thing he wanted to do was stumble into one by accident. 

Eventually he found what he was looking for. Tracks leading away from the stream bed deeper into the forest. A ram by the looks of them and a sizable one at that. There would be more than enough meet to provide the rest of the camp with breakfast... and lunch, and dinner. He followed the trail, moving carefully and quietly, in spite of his size, watching his step and always keeping an ear out for danger. There were other prints on the path as well, fennec and nug by the look of them. But Marcus was only interested in the ram. 

A sudden rustling in the brush to his left made him whip around, bringing his crossbow to bear, ready to fire with a squeeze of the trigger mechanism. A flash of a familiar shade of red made him breath a sigh of relief as he relaxed his shoulders and lowered the bow. Leliana stepped out into the open, her own bow held in one hand, her other held up before her.

"Easy. It's only me." she breathed, eyeing the crossbow.

"Dibella's cunt!" Marcus swore "I nearly shot you! Don't sneak up on people like that." 

"Don't you think it is unwise to hunt alone?" she asked, a small hint of teasing in the tone of her voice.

"I could say the same about you." 

"The sentries didn't tell you I was out here?" she asked, stepping closer. She wasn't wearing her usual chaimail battledress and violet mantle and hood. Instead she had donned something lighter and more practical for hunting, a leather coat over a black long sleeved shirt, fingerless gloves, black leggings and knee high boots. Her short red hair was tied behind her head to keep it out of her eyes.

"No. They didn't. Not that they say anything to me anyways." he laughed, more to relieve the tension in himself than out of humor in the situation. "They were probably hoping you'd accidentally shoot me." 

Leliana didn't laugh, her face contorted into a scowl. "I shall have a word with them when I return to camp." 

"Don't worry about it. Neither of us shot the other, that's what matters." he looked around, observing the woods around them before turning back to Leliana. "Any luck?" She reached behind her and showed him three birds, water fowl by the look of them, that she'd shot and tied to her belt. 

"You look like you're on something's trail." she replied, regarding him with her deep blue eyes. 

"Ram, and a big one too. Care to join the hunt?" he said with a warm and inviting smile. Leliana paused for a moment, considering the offer before accepting. She drew an arrow and nocked it to her bow. They continued on the animal's trail as quietly as they could. Neither spoke a word, they didn't want to scare off their prey, after all. Marcus used the silence to contemplate what Dorian had said to him the night before. He and Leliana did need to talk, but he was hesitant about approaching her with anything but Inquisition business. Those times they would spend doing nothing but playing chess, or just talking, letting themselves forget about everything that was happening in the world around them, even if only for a little while were over. But perhaps with the situation in Redcliffe contained, the mages recruited, and the Breach soon to be closed there would be time after all. He still wasn't sure about them together, but there were things he wanted to explain, things he should have told her. 

Marcus shook the thoughts from his head, choosing to focus on the task at hand. There was something wrong about the forest around them. The birds were too quiet, and there wasn't a nug or fenec in sight. He also couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. He glanced over at Leliana who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Her sharp eyes scanned the treeline and her fingers stroked over the fletchings of her nocked arrow. 

He couldn't tell just how long they'd followed the ram's trail, but the sun had risen higher in the sky. It had been a couple hours at the very least. They hadn't lost their tail either. Whatever it was, it stayed close enough to follow, but far enough to stay out of sight. Eventually they came to clearing where they finally found their prey. The large ram stood in the middle of the open field grazing lazily, completely unaware of its surroundings. From the cover of the foliage, they were more than close enough to take the shot. 

"Would you like to do the honors?" Marcus asked his companion in a whisper, gesturing towards the ram. 

"You have been tracking it far longer than I have. I wouldn't want to steal your kill." she replied in kind, her head was on a swivel, surveying the treeline. Marcus shrugged, and lifted the crossbow to his shoulder. He aimed slightly above the stationary animal to account for drop and inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly as he squeezed the trigger. The bow jerked in his hands, but his grip remained strong as the bolt flew through the air for a split second before embedding itself deeply in the ram's thick hide. The ram unleashed a choked cry of shock and pain before dropping to the ground. Marcus and Leliana moved from their, the spymaster drawing her dagger. They crossed the field quickly and while Marcus pulled the bolt from its body, Leliana slit the animal's throat to put it out of its pain. 

"Good kill." she said approvingly. "Let's get him back to camp." 

Marcus knelt down to grab the animal by its legs and hoist it onto his shoulders when a loud and threatening growl stopped him cold. Their followers chose then to reveal themselves. A dozen large wolves emerged from the foliage surrounding the clearing, teeth bared, tails rigid and hair standing up straight on their backs. The massive animals began to circle the two as they stood back to back. They had scented blood and it made them ravenous. 

"Merde!" Leliana swore in Orlesian.

"I think they want the ram." Marcus said, eyeing the nearest wolf with unease. 

"Or us." Leliana replied, struggling to keep her voice calm. They were in for one hell of a fight they were too far away from camp to get help, and the wolves would certainly run them down before they got far. But she wasn't about to go down quietly. She drew her bow and aimed it at the nearest wolf, but Marcus' hand shot out and pushed it down before she could loose the shaft. 

"Wait." he inhaled deeply and shouted "Kaan Drem Ov!" 

The magic from the shout radiated outward like a pulse, affecting every animal within earshot. Leliana noted an immediate change in the wolves. They relaxed. The growls and bared teeth ended. Their hair settled on their bodies, and they took a more relaxed posture. One of them approached them, the pack alpha, Leliana would guess. Before she could utter a word of protest Marcus knelt and extended a hand towards the beast. The wolf sniffed his hand gingerly then gave it a single lick before barking something to his pack. Without so much as a second glance at Leliana, Marcus, or the dead ram, they turned on their heels and disappeared back into the forest. 

Leliana didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until her lungs began to ache. She began to let it out slowly through pursed lips before bursting into laughter. It felt strange to her, foreign. But Maker, it felt _good_. She didn't know how long it had been since she let herself laugh and truly be genuine with it. It seemed like no matter the danger, whatever the situation, this man could fix everything by yelling at it. Nothing phased him, whether it was a hole in the sky, a psychotic magister, or a pack of wolves, he never lost his head. They had their differences, and though, while she would never admit it, it was true that he frightened her, he seemed to be as steadfast as a mountain. If only things were different... 

"Are you alright?" Marcus asked, with a concerned as as she struggled to get control over herself.

"Yes, I'm fine." She breathed wiping a tear from her eye. "Merci." She glanced down at the ram than back at the way they had come. "Come, we should return to camp before the others miss us." 


	26. Before

The duo made their way back the way they came, following the worn animal trail leading to the stream. Leliana kept an arrow nocked to her bowstring, refusing to let her guard down. These woods still held other threats more lethal than wolves. Marcus carried the ram on his shoulders as they walked. Leliana had offered to help carry it, but Marcus had declined. Leliana smiled to herself as they walked. At first she'd had serious reservations about joining in field work with the others. She was of the most use back in Haven where she could stay in constant contact with her extensive spy rings. Out here she was all but blind. She had brought a number of ravens with her when they had left, but their only use was to send outgoing messages and status updates back to Haven or other Inquisition outposts throughout Orlais and Ferelden. Finding a group constantly on the move was all but impossible for the birds. The only way to receive messages was to stop in a town and send a raven, then wait for it to reach its destination and return with a reply.

Of course she hadn't left her position vacant while she was gone. She told herself that it would be good idea for her subordinates to get some experience as acting spymaster in her absence. If anything were to happen to her and she was rendered unable to perform her duties the Inquisition would need somebody ready and capable to take her place. But this journey had been for her as well. She thought back over the past months, trying to remember if she had left Haven even once since the destruction of the Conclave. Staying one place was unusual for her. Her work as a bard, her travels with Daylen, and most recently her duties as the Left Hand of Divine Justinia kept her on the road constantly. The sedentary lifestyle as the Inquisition's spymaster was strange and unfamiliar, but she had put her discomfort aside for the good of the organization. 

Being on the road again, returning to Redcliffe, had brought back many old memories that she had long stored away in the back of Leliana's mind. After Marjolaine's betrayal keeping the life of a bard had become too dangerous to continue. With her friend Mother Dorothea's help she had gone into hiding as a Lay Sister in the Lothering Chantry where she had received a vision of the Blight and the Warden, which she had believed had been sent to her by the Maker Himself. The Chantry had held firm to the belief that the Maker never communed with the living, but she knew what she saw and she refused to back away, despite ostracization and mockery from the other sisters. There was no other explanation. When Daylen had passed through Lothering with Alistair and Morrigan she knew she had to follow her calling and join them in their battle to slay the Archdemon and put an end to Loghain's treachery. After she helped them defeat some of the Teyrn's minions, Daylen had accepted her into his group with little question.

Daylen... well, Daylen hadn't exactly been what she had expected from the vague visions she had experienced. Rather than a great and mighty warrior straight out of stories and legend, she instead found an awkward, gangly Circle Mage who had just recently passed his Harrowing. Daylen had spent most of his life in the tower at Kinloch Hold, his magic had come to him at a unusually young age and the Templars had taken him to Kinloch shortly after. He once confided in her that he didn't remember his parents, or much at all of his life before. He was bookish and intelligent, with a bizarre encyclopedic knowledge of just about anything you could imagine. The cause of this was an incomparable curiosity in regards to anything and everything. Nobody could argue that he wasn't a powerful mage, extraordinarily so, but despite this he disliked using his power to kill. More often than not, he would try to find a peaceful, diplomatic solution to problems, despite protests from Morrigan and Sten. He was warm, open, and genuinely friendly with a strange sort of charisma that Leliana couldn't put to words. He was young, inexperienced, and fearful, but he was the right person to unite Ferelden against the Darkspawn threat. 

As she had been the best shot with a bow in their ragtag band of not-so-merry misfits hunting for their next meal was often left to her. Much to her chagrin, Daylen had often insisted on accompanying her into the wilds, generally with the excuse of searching for ingredients for alchemical experimentation, or to observe and study the native wildlife. Living his life in the tower did little to help him develop his hunter's instinct. He was clumsy and loud, and to her ever increasing frustration, often drove away whatever it was she was attempting to kill by either stepping on a stick or speaking too loudly. Once he had the misfortune of striking a beehive with a rock he had tossed absentmindedly. The enraged creatures had chased him through the woods, stinging him mercilessly until he had leapt into a pond in a desperate bid to escape. He hadn't even thought of using his magic to defend himself, and little had he known that the pond was infested with leeches. He had spent the better part of an afternoon picking the horrendous little bloodsuckers off of every part of his body, **_every part_** , while Wynne treated the stings with a salve she'd made from elfroot. The poor boy was utterly hopeless in the wild.

During the long nights of their travels, around the campfire Leliana would sing songs to the music of her lute, or spin wondrous tales about ancient heroes and heroines long gone, but never forgotten. Even when things seemed as though they could not get worse, when everything that could be wrong in the world was, these people never gave up, never surrendered to their doubts or fears. That was why they were remembered. She liked to think that her tales helped. That they kept their morale high and spirits bright when the world was at its darkest. When the others had gone to bed, she and Daylen would remain out under the stars, staring up into the heavens. He would tell tales of his own, showing her the stories and meanings given to the constellations in the night sky. They would talk for hours on end about... well anything. It was their own little escape. A way to get away from the troubles that plagued every step of their quest to unite Ferelden against the Darkspawn. Maker she missed him...

Leliana shook her head, pushing the thoughts from her mind. Daylen was gone, long dead and buried, and their were more pressing matters at hand than losing herself in melancholy. Matters like the man who walked beside her who was very much alive and right here and with everything she had seen, everything she had learned, she found herself with an unshakable curiosity about him and his past, and the need to speak with him about his future with the Inquisition. 

Their meeting in the woods hadn't been by accident or chance. She knew of his strong tendency to wake early in the morning, and to typically leave camp until everybody else had awoken. She took measures to wake first and "chance" a meeting with him on his morning hunt. She had questions she wanted to ask. A lot of them. But she wasn't sure where to start, and realized that she must be careful not to make it seem like an interrogation. She still remembered when he had first revealed where he was from. He had told them as little as possible, and almost nothing of his personal life. When they inquired into his military service he had become irritated, then angry with their prying, which was markedly unusual for the generally even tempered and soft spoken man. 

She scoured her mind, thinking of something to bring up to him. Something that wouldn't seem random, and out of nowhere, but also not too personal. She thought of just the right thing, something that was relevant to their current situation. 

"You seem to be a reasonably skilled tracker." Leliana said, catching his gaze as he walked beside her. "I take it you have hunted often?" 

Marcus laughed warmly, shifting the weight of the ram on his shoulders into a more comfortable position. "How do you think I've kept myself fed these past five years? I spent a lot of time on the road, even before the accident. Knowing how to kill, skin, and gut an animal are all necessary skills." 

"Though apparently knowing how to cook is not." Leliana laughed "With your culinary 'skills' I am shocked you haven't poisoned yourself yet." 

Marcus rolled his eyes "Yes yes, it's nothing I haven't heard before. I assure you."

"Oh don't take everything so seriously. I'm only teasing." she paused "So... you traveled a lot?"

"Yeah, I spent more time moving between cities than I actually spent in them." he replied "There was always something that required my attention... or didn't, but they asked for me anyways."

"Why did they ask for you specifically?"

He laughed, though there was little humor in it. "I was Skyrim's problem solver. Whether it was a rampant dragon or a resurrected necromancer queen raising an army of the dead beneath the province's capital, I was the man who could be relied upon to deal with it." he shrugged "Didn't hurt that it usually paid pretty damn well. Gave me something to send back home to Cyrodiil and help my family get back on its feet." 

"You still have family in Tamriel?" Leliana asked, genuinely surprised. He'd given his family only a brief mention when he revealed where he was from to them. She had believed them all to have perished. 

"Only my sister Cornelia is still alive." Marcus replied solemnly. "She cares for the family estate with her husband and children. Both my parents have been dead for some time." 

Leliana nodded "You said you needed to send gold back home?"

"Yes. We are noble in title alone. It used to be that House Duronius was one of the wealthiest families in all of Cyrodiil. Many of my ancestors served as ranking officers in the Imperial Legion or as stewards and advisors to Counts and Countesses across the province. One of my family even served as a member of the Elder Council." when he noticed the lack of recognition on her face he explained "The Elder Council is the governing body that advises the Emperor in matters of state and diplomacy. If or when the Emperor is rendered incapable of performing his duties, the Council takes over governance of the Empire until an heir is coronated." 

"What happened?" 

"The same fate that eventually befalls every great house." Marcus sighed "Everything was put into the hands of a greedy imbecile. One of my predecessors made a number of... questionable choices in regards to the family business and estate, and ended up accumulating an enormous debt. His son was forced to sell much of our land in order to pay it. Couple that with a number of avid gamblers with poor luck, and a Thalmor raiding party burning the estate to the ground during the Great War, my family was in some rather dire straights. In a few short generations, my family went from powerful and universally respected, to the laughing stock of Cyrodiil. So, when my father died all of these problems were pushed onto me." 

"Is that why you left home? To redeem your family's name?" 

"My father was fighting in Hammerfell when the Thalmor destroyed my home. He spent everything he had to rebuild what had been destroyed in the war and it wore on him every day of his life. When I was sixteen years old he was murdered by bandits on his way to the Imperial City to negotiate another land sale just to make ends meet. The next year my mother got sick and just... just didn't get better. Redeeming the family name? That was part of it, I suppose. In truth, I didn't want any of it. I never wanted to spend the rest of my life fruitlessly slaving over a dying farm. I wanted to travel, to see the world and make something of my life. I didn't want to just sit by helplessly and watch as my family name withered away into nothing." he laughed bitterly "Which is ironic since I may very well be the last Duronius. Thirty four years old wid-" he stopped to clear his throat, something that made Leliana's brow crease in a slight, barely discernible frown. He was avoiding something, but she wasn't going to push him. "-with no wife, no children. The odds of me furthering the family line do not bode well." 

"You have my condolences Marcus. I did not know..." she replied.

"Of course you didn't, and it's not your fault." he lifted his gaze up to the bare trees above them. The sun had risen higher in the sky and beams of light filtered through the leafless branches. The rest of the camp would be awake by now. "They were good people. My parents. They raised us well. Provided us with an education and everything we needed. They did everything they could to protect us and care for us. I didn't know just how bad things were until I inherited my family's estate. I needed to pay them back somehow."

"What about your sister? She stayed when you left."

"She was already courting the man who she would marry." Marcus replied "I met him a few times and he seemed like a decent man to me, somebody who actually cared about her. He was... older than she was, and though he was not particularly wealthy, he made enough to support Cornelia." he chuckled gently "I don't think she ever forgave me for leaving before her wedding. But anyways, shortly after I passed my nineteenth birthday, I packed my things, said my goodbyes and traveled west into Hammerfell, and I have been wandering ever since"

By then they had reached the stream from which they had caught the ram's trail. It was still some ways back to the camp, but the better part of their journey was over. Marcus shifted the ram's weight again, and Leliana heard him give a huff of fatigue. The beast was far from light and they had been walking for several hours. 

"Perhaps we should take a moment to rest?" Leliana suggested.

Marcus gave a strained laugh and set the dead ram down onto the ground gently then stood straight before bending at the waist, reaching down to touch his toes with his fingertips with a groan. "You'll hear no arguments from me." Leliana grabbed her canteen from her belt. It was empty. She popped the cap and knelt down next to the stream to fill it while Marcus sat down on a rock and massaged his shoulders. Leliana drank from the canteen, the stream water was cold, sweet and refreshing. She gave a satisfied sigh, wiping her lips with the back of her hand and passing the water to Marcus who drank deeply before closing it again and handing it back to her. 

"You have led a very solitary life." Leliana said, taking the canteen and placing it back onto her belt "It must have been lonely."

"Not always." Marcus replied simply, electing not to elaborate, or to say any more.

"Did you ever return home?" Leliana asked "Visit your family?"

"No. At first I simply didn't have any time to. There was always something keeping me in Skyrim. When I finally did have the time... I... I couldn't. Not after everything I had seen, everything I'd done. I'm not the same person I was when I left, and I have made many enemies. I don't want to give them an excuse to hurt her or her family, so I think it's best if I just... kept my distance. Not that I have a choice presently." 

Leliana almost made a comment about how one shouldn't push those who cared for them away, but she realized how hypocritical it would sound, especially to him. This was precisely the reason she had ended things with him before they began. She was confused and afraid. He would give her foes a weakness to exploit, a way to strike her where she was most vulnerable and she doubted her ability to survive another loss like Daylen. But the more time she spent  with him, the more she learned about him, the pettier she felt these concerns were. She had a feeling that anybody who tried to use Marcus would quickly come to regret it. 

He was unlike Daylen in  many ways, but alike him in so many others Few people saw his smile, heard his laugh, or even bothered to speak with him, people feared him, whispered behind his back, cursed him for being a mage and an apostate without taking a first look at his character. The treatment of mages in southern Thedas was so often cruel and barbaric. They were treated as subhuman simply because they were born differently than the rest of the world and few seemed to care of the rampant abuse that many suffered at the hands of the Templar Order. They didn't choose to be born with powers that most lacked. Fairer treatment of mages had always been a shared goal between her and Justinia, but Chantry politics had proved to be a constant thorn in the side of significant reform. Some progress had been made, but with the collapse of the Circles of Magi and the beginning of the Mage Rebellions, much of the goodwill and sympathy they had garnered for the mages of Thedas had been dragged through the mud. 

She had gotten to know many mages over the course of her life and she considered many to be better people than her. Despite the Chantry's beliefs, Leliana had always been one to judge character rather than heritage or blood. Marcus was... difficult to get a read on. In battle he was ruthless, cunning and brutal. He had no scruples with crippling his enemies with his Thu'um then cutting them down without a moment's hesitation while they were defenseless. The image of the wounded Venatori Marcus had summarily executed remained frozen in her mind, the look of terror and pain in his eyes before Marcus had driven his blade into his back. The way the life had left those eyes as Marcus pulled his blade from the corpse and wiped the blood from it on the man's trousers. She knew many would consider his manner to be dishonorable, cruel even, but he seemed to care little for honor on the field, preferring the results over the conduct. Nobody had confronted him over his actions, nobody said so much as a word. They feared him, feared what he was capable of and just how willing he was to use his power to crush those who stood against him, and he knew it. 

She had no right to judge him for his actions. She and the use of fear and psychological warfare were intimate. She couldn't count the number of people whose deaths were on her conscience because they were enemies of the Divine, or stood in the path of progress. She had always told herself that they had been necessary sacrifices for the greater good of Thedas, but with everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong, a fog of doubt had seeped into her thoughts. Marcus seemed to lack those doubts when facing the enemy. Every action was made with the utmost surety. 

But in stark contrast to this ruthlessness, he showed a close attachment and an ironclad loyalty to those he considered his friends. He was kind and understanding, and easy to talk to for those unafraid to approach him. Something about his smile, and the encouragement in his voice made people open up to him. Despite having no ties to the Chantry or even to Thedas he had fought for their cause as hard as any of them. He and the Herald seemed especially close. She would often hear them talking. Marcus would offer comfort or advice or simply an ear to listen. Perhaps it was a sort of kinship they found in each other. If Marcus was to be believed, and she could tell that _he_ certainly believed it, both were unwittingly forced into positions of responsibility at a young age. Both were faced with seemingly insurmountable odds. Evelyn had found a sort of platonic confidant with Marcus. Somebody with whom she could share her fears and concerns, to complain about the injustice of it all without coming off as petty. 

Unfortunately, Leliana hadn't been the only one to notice this relationship. She heard whispers among the Inquisition's soldiers, fed by the former Templars who had joined their ranks. Rumors that Marcus was manipulating the the Herald and her council ran rampant. There was barely bridled disgust with his consistent presence at the War Meetings, anger towards him having a say in the direction the Inquisition was to take. He was an apostate with no past who had happened to be in Haven when the Temple had been obliterated by the Breach. Had he been captured by the Templars, he would have been executed or made Tranquil, if he could be made Tranquil, which she doubted, for the 'crime' of not belonging to a Circle of Magi. Any sort of close involvement between her and Marcus would only serve to reaffirm these suspicions, not dissuade them. As these rumors continued to fester and spread her opinion on keeping Marcus' origins secret from the rest of the world began to change. Fear was the only thing that stayed their hands, and eventually even that would subside. With the way things were progressing the Inquisition would be left with no choice but to have Marcus tell everybody the truth or be evicted from Haven. 

She turned to Marcus, who lay on his back in the grass, hands clasped behind his head as he stared up into the branches above. His lips were pursed in an O and he whistled a tune completely foreign to her. There was no other noise but the sounds of nature, birds chirping and tweeting in the trees, the few leaves remaining rustling in the wind, and the fluid trickle of the creak flowing past them. It was a sweet, lilting melody, with an upbeat and merry tone that made her think of long nights in the tavern beside a roaring fire, singing songs, telling tales, laughing and drinking the night away with dear old friends.

"Marcus?" she called out to him, and the music stopped. He sat up and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. "I must to speak with you about something."

"Oh?" he sat up straighter, looking her in the eye "Sounds important." 

Leliana sighed, and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. "I think you should tell them."

Marcus' eyes focused on her with increased intensity, his brow creased into a frown. She didn't need to explain what she meant. "Why the sudden change of heart?" 

"Tensions haven't gotten any better between you and our soldiers." Leliana explained "There have been rumors spreading around Haven that you are manipulating the Herald and the Inquisition from within for your own personal gain."

"Yes, I've heard these rumors already. Templars aren't nearly as subtle as they like to think they are."Marcus replied, rolling his eyes. "Which doesn't make them any less absurd. To what end do they believe I am manipulating you towards?" 

"Lust for power, abetting a pro-mage agenda, aiding the enemy. Take your pick really." Leliana replied with a shrug "The point is they see you as a threat, rather than an ally and a friend. They fear you and what you are capable of. That much is certain. This fear is what stays their actions for now, but if things carry on like they have been it is possible that the Templars will attempt to take matters into their own hands." 

"You think they would attempt to harm me?" Marcus replied, rubbing the stubble on his jaw with the palm of his hand. 

"Considering the Order's past conduct with regards to apostates, it's a strong possibility." 

"Have you shared your concerns with the others, Cullen, Josephine...?" 

"No, not yet. But we will when we return to Haven." she replied "I just don't want anybody to come to harm over this." 

Marcus gave a resigned nod "If it comes to violence I will defend myself however necessary, but I would like to avoid it if possible. Alright, we'll talk it over with the others and I'll make the announcement after the Breach has been closed." 

Leliana nodded "I think this is for the best. But I want you to know, no matter what happens when you reveal the truth, I will stand by you." 

Marcus smiled, his pale eyes softened, losing their stone cold gaze. The weariness, suspicion, and rigidity seemed to seep away, being replaced by a warm glow she saw all to rarely in him. "I know I've probably already said this, but I'll say it again. I appreciate everything you've done for me. It's been too long since I... since I had somebody I could rely upon, somebody I could trust. Whatever your reasons may have been, you gave me a chance when few others would, despite knowing nothing about who I was or where I was from. The Inquisition gave me purpose in my life when I had none, and I don't know if I will ever be able to repay you or the others for what you have given me. But I will try." he paused, seeming like he had something further to say, but he was hesitant, then he just laughed it off. "Gods, that sounded much less sappy in my head."  

"It was sweet." she said, returning the smile. Her eyes studied his face, took in everything it had to offer. He was handsome, few could argue against that. A sort of raw and unrefined strength to his features, yet somehow possessing a sort of nobility that hinted towards his lineage. One thing she noted was a lack of scarring. Most of the warriors she knew had prominent and visible scars. Cassandra's on her cheek, Cullen's on his lip. The Iron Bull, who seemed to have an almost religious dislike of shirts, had more scars crisscrossing his body than she could ever hope to count. Even she had more than her share of scars from her numerous battles over the years, and from her captivity in Marjolaine's hands. Scars told stories, each person's life laid bare by the marks that marred their skin. Besides an very old and faded line that crossed his brow, kept hidden by his bangs, Marcus seemed untouched, pure, at least at a first glance. His eyes told his story for him. For all his smiles, laughs, and kind words, he could not hide what his eyes laid before him. They told of a man who had suffered every pain life could inflict upon him, whose every moment was defined and haunted by his losses, by his regrets. They told of a man who had the weight of the world laid upon his shoulders, but refused to give under such a burden. He had the eyes of a man who had stared death in the face and laughed, daring it to try harder. 

"Well, I think that's enough sitting around." Marcus said, and it was at that moment that Leliana realized that she had been staring. She quickly averted her gaze and gathered her things before pushing herself to her feet. Marcus pretended he hadn't noticed and followed suit, hoisting the ram over his shoulders. 

* * *

They made the final stretch of the walk downstream to the camp in about an hour. Judging by the sun's position in the sky, it was about noon. Well, so much for being back by breakfast... But it wasn't too late for lunch and Marcus was starving. However when they arrived back in camp, they found the others packing up and making ready to continue to return journey to Haven. The cookfire had been extinguished and a pot of some sort of stew lay mostly empty with a couple clean bowls set next to it. At least somebody had been kind enough to leave them left overs. Leliana gave Marcus a small smile before moving on to speak with one of her agents.

Evelyn looked up from where she knelt folding the canvas of her tent and smiled. "Oh good, you're back. We were beginning to wonder if you had been eaten by wolves."

"Almost were." Marcus replied with a smile. He knelt down and dropped the dead ram next to the cookfire, unsure of just what to do with it. He'd leave it there for somebody else to take care of.

"Were you?" she shrugged "Well, at least you aren't dead." 

"I'm deeply touched by your concern for my well being." he laughed, moving over to his own tent and dragging all of his belongings out so he could take it down. 

Evelyn snorted "Yeah? Well don't get used to it." she finished folding the canvas and stuffed it into its traveling bag alongside the poles, ropes and stakes as Marcus began pulling his own stakes out of the ground. "So, you go out with Leliana or did the two of you just run into each other by accident?" 

Marcus shrugged "We ran into each other out there, but I don't think anything involving her happens by 'accident'." 

"Oh?" Evelyn said with a sly smile and a raised eyebrow "What did she want." 

"We... talked. About the Inquisition, and about me. She wanted to get to know me better." 

"Get to know you better?" Dorian chimed in, walking past them with his traveling pack in hand and a smug grin crossing his lips. "I do so hope that was an innuendo. There's nothing quite like a good risque story to make a long voyage interesting." 

"Ooh, are you two an item now? I knew it! I've got a lot of coin riding on this bet I've got going with Varric. He doesn't think it's gonna happen. But I just  _knew_  there was something..." Evelyn said excitedly.

"Sorry to disappoint, but nothing like that happened." Marcus interrupted with a groan as he rubbed he temples. "And even if something had I wouldn't go around sharing the details with everybody I know. She'd slit my throat in my sleep."

"Fair point." 

"What are the three of you going on about?" Cassandra asked, as she strolled by carrying her horse's saddle and bridle in hand.

"Just Marcus' early morning stroll with our favorite bard." Evelyn replied, getting to her feet and hoisting the tent bag over her shoulder. She walked over to where the horses had been tied for the night. Hers was already fed, watered, and saddled.

"Oh? Have the two of you decided to stop tiptoeing around each other like school children and make something more of what you have together?" 

Marcus groaned and stopped rolling his tent up to glare at the Seeker "Would you kindly keep it down." he hissed "And why is everybody butting into my personal life? Do I go around demanding  information from you three about _your_ relationships?"

"Don't pretend there isn't something there. I have known Leliana for many years, but I have never seen her look at anybody the way she looks at you. Love is a fleeting thing. You must grasp it with both hands and hold on to it tightly before it escapes you forever."

"Again, how is this any of your business?" 

"As your friends we simply want what's best for you." Evelyn replied, returning to bring the rest of her belongings to her mount. 

He looked around, Leliana was nowhere in sight and he lowered his voice to barely a hiss so nobody he didn't want to hear could. "And how do you know that this is for the best? What happens when I find a way to return to Tamriel? What would you have me do? Am I supposed to choose between her and my homeland? After she's poured her heart out to me? Fallen in love with me? Am I supposed to abandon her and break her heart, or abandon my home when it needs me most?" 

"I don't know the answers you seek to your questions." Cassandra replied solemnly. "But for your own sake, do not toy with her heart. You must decide what you intend to do and make those intentions clear to her. It will be less painful for both of you." 


	27. The Storm

One of the downsides of wearing full plate mail was how damn hot it could get. Marcus was sweltering in his Ebony armor as he stood on the walkway overlooking the courtyard in the center of the ruined Temple of Sacred Ashes. Despite being high in the Frostback Mountains and the rapidly approaching onset of winter, the ruins were unnaturally choked with dry heat that had many sweltering and shifting uncomfortably in vain attempts to ignore the sweat stinging their eyes. Red lyrium was everywhere strutting out in jagged shards that littered the Temple. Standing too close to any of the shards made Marcus nauseous and filled his head with something he could only describe as an incomprehensible whisper. He did his best to stand as far away from that wretched stone. 

High above them sat the Breach, the ugly supernatural tear between the fade and the real world. As ominous and menacing as ever. Marcus' gaze fell from the rip in the heavens to down below in the courtyard where Cassandra, Evelyn and Solas stood. The Herald's mark glowed brilliantly with its proximity to the tear that was tied to it. Directly before him were Fiona's mages quickly downing vials of lyrium to achieve the power they needed to aid in the closing of the Breach. 

"Mages!" Cassandra called out, her voice echoing against the broken walls. The mages snapped to attention, staves at the ready.

"Focus past the Herald." Solas instructed, holding his own staff above his head "Let her will draw from you." Before him Evelyn approached the rift that tethered the Breach to the real world. The closer she came to it the harder her mark glowed until it was nearly blinding to look upon. The leader of the rebel mages shouted out a command and slammed the head of his staff into the stone before him. Magic emanated from him, flowing past Cassandra and Solas and into the Breach. The others followed suit. 

Evelyn thrust her hand towards the rift and tendrils of magical green energy snaked out from the mark and connected with it. Marcus watched as the rift buckled and shrank until it burst with a flash of light, unleashing a wave of force that knocked everybody below off their feet. He stumbled back a few steps struggling to keep his footing. With all that armor he wore, being knocked on his ass would be just about the worst thing that could happen. He thrust his hand out and caught himself on a column that had been blasted apart by the explosion that created the Breach. 

Rushing over to the stone railing he stared down into the courtyard as the dust began to settle and he could see clearly. Cassandra got back to her feet first and pushed her way past the others, trying to get to Evelyn he knelt before the rift. But there was no rift... Marcus lifted his eyes back to the sky. There was no Breach either. Cheers erupted from everybody in the Temple. They had done it. 

* * * 

The celebration had started without them. They returned to jubilation and merrymaking. Casks of ale, mead, and wine had been broken out with people free to serve themselves as much as they desired. Soldiers and servants alike laughed and cheered, danced and smiled. For just a moment, everything was forgotten. The war between the mages and Templars, the death of the Divine, the Elder One and his aspirations to godhood, all concerns were cast aside. 

Marcus stood beside the Herald, overlooking the yard where what seemed to be the entirety of Haven laughed and sang, drank and danced the night away. A ragtag band of musicians played their hearts out, though few kept beat to the music as they were overcome with joy. 

"I'm surprised you haven't joined in with the celebrations." Marcus said, looking over at the younger woman.

"The Herald of Andraste is above such petty jubilation. I cannot be seen consorting with the rabble." she retorted in a superior voice, looking down her nose at the people below her.

Marcus raised his eyebrows "Easy there. Don't let it get to your head." 

Evelyn laughed "Relax, I was only joking." she sighed "I'll go in a while. I... I just need a minute." 

"I understand." 

"So what about you? Have you decided?" 

"Yeah. I have." he sighed.

"Whatever it is, you should tell her now, while you have some privacy. She's up in her usual spot." 

"Alright." 

He turned to leave her, nearly running into Cassandra as she came up behind them. Cassandra gave him a nod of acknowledgement and understanding and he returned a slight smile, before passing her. He had spent many nights laying awake deliberating with himself, but in the end he had chosen Tamriel. It didn't matter where he was, how far away he may be, he was still a loyal son of the Empire and a Legate of the Imperial Legion. Right now his homeland needed him the most, even more than the war against the Stormcloaks. When he had been sent to Thedas, tensions between the Mede Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion had been at their highest since the Great War. Anti-Concordat and Anti-Dominion protests had broken out all across Cyrodiil and Highrock, and the newly crowned Emperor Regulus Mede I, Titus Mede II's son, was taking little action to quiet them. As well, numerous demands by the Thalmor to investigate the disappearance of many of their Justicar agents within Skyrim had been likewise ignored. Since sobering up and joining the Inquisition after the destruction of the Conclave his thoughts had been lingering more often on home, and not knowing was killing him. Five years was a long time to be away and anything could have happened. He had to know. Had to protect his home if it was still there, or avenge it if it was not. And nothing is this world or his own was going to stand in his way.

That didn't stop him from feeling despicable about what he was about to do. When Leliana had spoken to him the morning after she had kissed him, deep down inside he had been relieved. It would make things easier on both of them, so he gave her the space he believed she needed. But then she started having second thoughts about her decision and began showing interest in him again. He had foolishly allowed them to grow, rather than speaking to her about this sooner, explaining why it couldn't be. He hadn't been with another woman since Serana's passing and the years after her death had been the hardest of his life. It had been as though the light and joy in his life had been extinguished and the void left in her place had been filled with loneliness and self contempt. Her death had been his fault and only his fault. He should have been stronger, should have protected her, but he had failed her. There was no justice in her being gone, no justice in him being left alive and unharmed to roam the world alone in abject misery. All he had was the Empire and even that had been taken from him by that thrice damned Elder Scroll. When he had met Leliana, he had found a reprieve in her. The pain didn't go away, it never truly did, but she had helped to dull it, helped to fill some of the emptiness inside him. He cared for her deeply, wanted to help her and protect her, to make her feel happy, but he didn't know if he loved her. Certainly not in the way he had Serana. They had experienced too much together, faced the world together. Known each other as intimately as could be. They had shared secrets, fears, hopes, and desires. They had laughed, cried, lived, and loved, fought, argued, and bled together. He had sworn his heart and soul to her for as long as he lived and he didn't know if he could give that another person. Didn't know if any relationship he had wouldn't just be some hollow replacement for the woman who had been his constant companion for years. Leliana deserved better than that. She deserved more than what he could give her.  

He rounded the bend to where the opening to Leliana's lean-to was. Her back was turned to him, and she was bent over a table pouring over reports and missives. Marcus closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, trying to calm his nerves. "Leliana." she glanced over her shoulder at him "Do you have a moment? We need... we need to talk." 

"Can it wait?" he noted a tone of concern in her voice as her eyes raked over the paper she held in her hand. 

"Is something wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "What's happening." 

She gave an exasperated sigh "I have lost contact with a number of my agents watching the mountain passes leading to Haven. For the time being I have ordered the rest of my people to fall back until the threat can be identified."

"Could we be under attack?"

"It's a possibility. But to attack Haven would require a massive force. Any such buildup of troops and supplies would have been impossible to hide for long. Somebody would have noticed and reported it. Besides, the Frostbacks are trecherous. A force of any significant size would find the passage too troublesome to..." 

The desperate tolling of the town bell caught both of their attention and almost immediately the merrymaking the courtyard below stopped. They rushed outside the tent to see what the commotion was about to find the answer to Marcus' question before them. The lights of hundreds of torches came pouring over the hills into the valley. Even from this distance Marcus could hear the thunder of their boots marching towards them. What he was going to say was forgotten. 

"Forcing approaching!" Marcus could hear Cullen shout from below struggling to be heard above the din of the bell and the cries of fear and confusion from the townspeople. "To Arms!"

Cassandra and Evelyn rushed to meet them "We must get to the gate!" the Seeker commanded drawing her sword. They moved together as a group, rushing past the fleeing crowd that made a run for the shelter of the Chantry. Cullen, Josephine, and a number of soldiers were already waiting for them at the gates when they arrived. The rest of the Inner Council, Bull, Solas, Varric, Blackwall, Sera, Dorian, and Vivienne arrived shortly after coming in ones and twos.

"Cullen?" Cassandra asked the commander.

"One watchguard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain."

"Under what banner?" Josephine inquired.

"None."

"None?!" 

A sudden flash of light beyond the wall and a slamming against the barred gate caught their attention. A voice, sounding like it belonged to a young man called in to them. "I can't come in unless you open." there was a moment's hesitation before Evelyn and a soldier rushed to the gate and pushed it open. A massive Venatori in full plate mail walked towards them, raising his axe to strike when he cried out in pain and dropped his knees before falling prone, dead. Behind him stood a boy in a strange large brimmed hat, daggers wielded in hand. They rushed out to meet him.

"I'm Cole. I came to warn you, to help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know this."

"What is this? What's going on?" Evelyn demanded of the stranger Cole.

"The Templars come to kill you." the boy responded, his voice low.

"Templars!?" Cullen responded in disbelief "Is this the order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One." Cole explained "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." he pointed to a ridgeline a few hundred yards out, beyond the frozen pond. "There." Appearing through a cloud of black smoke was what Marcus could only describe as a monstrosity. A disgusting twisted human form standing nearly twice as tall as any man. His emaciated form was grotesque, with shards of red lyrium growing out of his skull, and his misshapen face contorted into a constant sneer. The creature reminded him vaguely of the Hagravens, hideous conglomerations of bird and woman that lead tribes of Forsworn that plagued the Reach. Beside him stood a far less impressive specimen. An older, sickly pale man adorned in heavy armor with the Templar crest, and carrying a greatsword.

"I know him." Cullen said, indicating the man with the sword "But this Elder One..." 

"He's very angry that you took his mages." Cole muttered. 

"Cullen!" Evelyn cried "Give me a plan! Anything!" 

"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand that monster we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force with everything you can." he turned to the men gathered behind him, drawing his blade from its sheath "Mages, you! You have sanction to engage them. That is Samson, he will not make it easy! Inquisition, with the Herald! For your lives for all of us!" 

They split up into groups to get the trebuchet's firing into the advancing force, and another to aid in the evacuation of noncombatants. During the months since its founding, the Inquisition's engineers had managed to build three of the massive siege engines facing into the valley. Two before the palisade walls guarding the small town and the third behind them. Marcus, Evelyn, Solas, and Blackwall alongside a group of soldiers worked to get the first firing. 

The Red Templars came slowly at first, and in small numbers. They were testing their defenses, probing for weaknesses, trying to gauge the troop numbers and strength of the defenders. The red Lyrium had altered the Templars in both body and mind. Aside from being stronger and faster, they were far more vicious. Technique and form had been all but forgotten in favor of brute force and savagery. They were impervious to fear and fatigue, attacking with abandon until either their victim was dead or they were.

However this sudden loss of higher brain function and strategic thought left them clumsy and imprecise, their actions predictable and easily countered by any swordsman of skill. Once among the finest warriors in all of Thedas, these Templars were now little more than mindless minions of the Elder One.

They kept the Templars at bay, carving through their ranks as the Inquisition siege engineers lowered the trebuchet's arm and loaded the stone into the sling. Solas hung back behind Marcus and Blackwall, keeping them protected with barriers and laying wards in the choke-points. Evelyn was in constant motion, moving from vantage point to vantage point, putting arrows through chinks in the Templars' armor with unerring accuracy and precision. They had the high ground. The Templars were forced to cross the frozen pond and up a slight rise to the trebuchet's perch and could only come a few at a time, rendering their numerical advantage irrelevant, so long as the defenders kept their stamina up.

"Golz Slen Nus!" Marcus shouted as four Templars charged up the bank towards them. In a flash they had been frozen to stone as Alexius had been, their statues blocking the way up. But that did not slow them. One of the knights, no longer recognizable as human smashed his deceased comrades to pieces and advanced, roaring with rage. It charged Marcus, fists razed above its head, ready to bring them down upon the Dragonborn in a crushing blow. Marcus spun to the side, dodging the clumsy attack, and drove his sword through the creature's back. It hollered in pain, dropping to its knees, wounded but still very much alive. The Templar reached behind him, trying to grab his attacker. Marcus danced back out of its reach, yanking his blade from its back before decapitating it with a brutal horizontal swing. The beast dropped to the ground and stirred no more. 

A shout caught his attention. He looked up to see Evelyn pointing in the direction of the pond. A dozen Templars were charging across towards them. "Somebody break the ice!" she shouted. Solas acted first. He spun his staff in intricate and graceful motions, magic humming all around him. The sky above the pond flared with green light and a hail of meteors fell from the Fade, shattering the ice and sending everybody on it straight to the bottom, sinking rapidly under the weight of their armor. Solas' legs gave out underneath him, but with some effort he managed to push himself back to his feet with the help of his staff. The powerful spell had taken a lot out of him. He heard Blackwall grunt as he cut down the last of the Templars who had made it across.

"Are you alright?" Evelyn asked, placing a hand on the elf's shoulder.

"Yes, I am well." he sighed "I... just need a moment."  

"We're ready to fire!" the chief of the trebuchet's crew declared. She pulled the firing mechanism and the counterweight dropped, pulling the arm up and throwing the massive stone hundreds of yards through the air. It slammed right into the midst of the Templars, killing many. Without hesitation, the crew began to pull the arm back down to fire another. 

"The other trebuchet isn't firing." Blackwall stated, his gaze fixed in its direction "Something's wrong." 

"Go." the crew chief said "We've got a handle on things here thanks to you." 

They gathered their wits and made off towards the second trebuchet. Corpses littered the ground along the path, belonging to both the Templars and the Inquisition. As they finally reached the trebuchet they found it swarming with Red Templars. The crew and soldiers sent to guard it had been slaughtered. 

"Bastards!" Evelyn shouted, loosing an explosive arrow right into the midst of the Templars. The blast killed two of them, but they quickly recovered and rose to meet the challenge. One of them, a hideous monstrosity. Its body twisted, and contorted to the point of losing all semblance of humanity with massive spikes of red Lyrium growing out of its back, raised its arm towards Evelyn firing off shards of the crystal at the archer as she loosed another arrow. Blackwall bolted in front of her, raising his shield to deflect the projectiles. 

"Thanks." Evelyn breathed. The Grey Warden grunted in response and moved to engage their foes. Marcus made the creature that had attacked Evelyn his target. He raised his shield before him and shouted. "Wuld Nah Kest!" shooting forth at blinding speed, he slammed into the mutilated abomination with force greater than a battering ram. The creature nearly shattered from the impact as it was flung through the air like a ragdoll, shards of red lyrium splintering in every direction. The other Templars turned their attention towards him, giving his companions the opening they needed to attack. 

It was a hard fight, but before long they had cleared the trebuchet of hostiles. "Get the trebuchet ready to fire!" Marcus shouted to Evelyn "We'll keep them off of you." she complied, rushing over to the crank that would pull the arm down and raise the counterweight. Just as she began to turn it the next wave of Templars began their assault. Marcus shouted down another group of Templars, freezing them in their armor with an unrelenting blast of frost, but others managed to outflank them. Solas cried out in pain and collapsed to his knees as one of the attackers hit him with a spell purge. The offending Templar raised his blade to finish the apostate off only to be countered by Blackwall. The Warden shunted the blade aside and delivered a strike to the Templar's helmet with the pommel of his own. He advanced on the stunned Templar, delivering a flurry of blows before his opponent dropped to the snow covered ground, dead. He turned back to the elf and extended his hand, pulling him to his feet as Evelyn finished lowering the trebuchet's arm.

"Help me load this thing." Evelyn cried as Marcus killed the last of the Templar attackers. Solas was still recovering from the purge that Templar had hit him with, so Blackwall and Marcus rolled the explosive barrel into the trebuchet's sling and Evelyn yanked the firing mechanism. With a whoosh the counterweight dropped and the arm flew upwards slinging the projectile hundreds of yards through the air and straight into the side of a mountain. Marcus cringed at the horrific aim as the barrel exploded completely off target of the force of advancing Templars, but a heavy rumbling quickly changed his mind. The face of the mountain, thousands of tons of ice and snow were dislodged from their precarious perch on the mountainside by the impact. All of that weight went careening down upon the attackers, burying hundreds and grinding their advance to an immediate halt.

A cheer went up from all across Haven. The avalanche had bought them time to regroup and prepare for the next wave. Blackwall laughed and clapped Evelyn on the shoulder in congratulations. But the celebration was premature. The rush of massive wings flowing through the air and an earthshaking roar were the only warning they had before the trebuchet exploded in a ball of flame and splintering wood. The dragon roared again as it soared over their heads. Another flash of light illuminated the night sky as the second trebuchet exploded like the first. It turned and flew over the town setting many of the buildings alight with its breath. Cheers of triumph were immediately replaced with screams of terror as the beast burned any hope of victory to ash. Unless...

"Come on!" Marcus shouted above the chaos "We need to get back behind the walls!" They made a run for the gates as the dragon made another pass over the village, stopping to help Harritt get into his shop to get his hammer. Others who had survived, rebel mages and Inquisition soldiers were already making their way through the open gates as Commander Cullen beckoned them through. "Move it! Move it!" he ordered, waving them in. Once everybody still outside was in the gates he and another soldier slammed them shut and barred them. "We need everyone back to the Chantry. It's the only building that might hold against... that beast!" he sighed and grimaced "At this point... just make them work for it."

"Commander." Marcus called to him "I have an idea. I have an idea to take care of the dragon and the Templars."

"You do?" he asked with a mixed look of both relief and skepticism. "What is it?" 

"I'll explain when we regroup at the Chantry." 

He nodded before turning back and making his way up the steps towards the Chantry. The dragon made another flyby and the building where Evelyn had been living in burst into flames. 

"We can't leave these people to die." Blackwall said "They still need our help."

"Agreed." Solas commented. A nearby shout caught their attention, and they looked over to see Red Templars already climbing over the walls. They had managed to regroup and renew their assault with astonishing speed and ferocity. Lysette, the Templar Marcus had met shortly after the explosion at the Conclave was engaging them with a few Inquisition soldiers. The four rushed to her aid, vanquishing the Templars before quickly moving on, fighting through more Templars and rescuing Villagers as they made their way up the village. With great effort they managed to rescue Seggrit, a merchant who had set up shop in Haven, Flissa the barkeep, Adan the alchemist and Minaeve, the Inquisition's researcher. 

Together they ran for the Chantry where more Templars came down from the hills above. The rest of the inner council was there, as well as Cullen and Leliana fighting for their lives. The spymaster's bow was broken, and her quiver empty of arrows. She was a whirlwind with twin daggers, dancing between Templars and driving her blades between gaps in their armor. She ducked a wild swipe from a Templar and spun around behind him before he could turn. With a deep slash to the back of his knee she cut his leg out from under him, then reversed her grip on the hilt and drove it through the man's exposed throat. They managed to kill the last of this wave of attackers and rescue Threnn the quartermaster who had nearly been surrounded. 

With the last of the Red Templars dead the doors to the Chantry opened and Chancellor Roderick stood, beckoning them inside, one of his hands clutched over a bloody wound in his gut with Cole standing behind him. "Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!" he called as they poured into the building. As soon as the last of them made it through he collapsed into Cole's arms. The boy took his arm over his shoulder and eased him down into a chair against the wall. 

"He tried to stop a Templar. The blade went deep, he's going to die." 

"What a charming boy." the Chancellor laughed sarcastically before wincing in pain. Blackwall and Solas moved past deeper into the Chantry, the Warden supporting the elf who was still feeling the effects of the spell purge used on him. Cullen, Josephine, Cassandra and Leliana approached as Marcus pulled his mask off to make breathing easier. 

"That dragon stole back whatever time you might have earned us with that avalanche. Tell us what this plan of yours is, Marcus." Cullen said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Alright. Do you remember that shout I used on Butler?" Leliana and Cassandra nodded "If I am correct, it should work on the Dragon. If it can overwhelm whatever is controlling the monster, I can turn the beast against the Templars. Even if it cannot kill them all, it should be enough the force a retreat." His power could bend the children of Akatosh to his will with ease. What chance would a mere animal have at resisting his might? 

"I've seen an Archdemon." the boy, Cole, spoke up "It was in the Fade... but it looked like that." 

"As have I." Leliana added "If it is a true Archdemon can you be so certain that you can control it?" 

Marcus sighed "No, but that's why I have a second plan in case if I can't. You aren't going to like it though." 

"Well, tell us already." Cullen said.

"I destroy the valley." 

"You _WHAT_? Josephine gaped at him "You cannot possibly be..." 

"I am. I can kill this Elder One, his dragon, and his entire army... and everybody else caught out in the open. It's well within my ability." 

"You're completely mad!" Cullen laughed "Never in the history of Thedas has there been a single mage with that much power."

"I'm not from Thedas." Marcus retorted "And I've done it before. I know full well what I am capable of." 

"A white bear on a blue field, once strong and proud, now broken and bloodied. Waves crashing, battering, splintering, wind roaring through torn sails. Fire spreading across the decks as soldiers jump into the raging sea to escape the flames only to be swallowed by the cold. A crack of thunder and lighting strikes, the fire spreads. There will be no survivors." Cole said as if in a trance, his breath heavy and strained. He pulled himself out of it and looked up at the Commander "He's telling the truth." 

Marcus fixed his gaze on the strange boy. He could remember the battle he described as clear as if it had happened yesterday. What he wanted to know was how Cole did. 

"If this is true, what about the rest of us? What about the civilians?" Evelyn asked. 

"Get the survivors into the Chantry's undercroft and bar the door. You  _might_ survive." 

" _Might_ survive!?" Josphine cried "That's your plan? You'll do this Elder One's work for him!" 

"I told you that you wouldn't like it." Marcus replied with a shrug "Which is why you should damn well hope the first plan works, because I don't see any other way." 

"I pray to the Maker that your first idea is successful." Cullen said rubbing the back of his neck. "But if it doesn't and we do not survive, I want to die on our terms. I would be at peace knowing you sent those bastards with us." 

"Look, I didn't say you _would_ die just that you..."

"Chancellor Roderick can help." Cole suddenly spoke out, catching their attention "He wants to say it before he dies." 

The wounded Chancellor tried to sit up straighter as he spoke, but fell, his words choked with pain "There is a path. You wouldn't know about it unless you had made the summer pilgrimage as I have." with redoubled effort he managed to get to his feet "The people can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could tell you." 

"What about it Cullen?" Evelyn turned to the Commander "Could it work?"

"Possibly. If he shows us the path." 

"You should go immediately." Marcus said "In case I cannot control of the dragon. Once you're out of the valley set off a flare so I'll know you're safely out of range." 

"What about you?" Leliana inquired, her jaw was clenched, trying to hold back the concern in her voice "What of your escape?" 

"I'll be fine. Worry about the people." he replied calmly, though he struggled to keep his voice from cracking. He turned back to the others "I will push the Templars from Haven to get that dragon's attention. Quickly gather all the supplies you can carry that haven't been burned then follow Roderick. The civilians will be safe, at least." 

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald." Cole said.

Evelyn's face became grim and distraught. "I can't go."

"Of course you can." Marcus said "That's why I'm staying. So the rest of you can escape." 

"No, you don't understand." she pleaded "All of you are in danger because of me! How can I just flee while you stay behind and sacrifice yourself for me? What if he ignores you and attacks us while we're leaving the valley?"

"I never said anything about sacrificing myself, and this isn't up for debate." Marcus replied cooly "Whatever you may be to that thing out there, you're still the only person who can close rifts. We need you alive, and as I'm sure I've made abundantly clear, you stay, you die."

"But..."

"We've wasted too much time already. I will not hear any arguments from you or anybody else. Either you leave of your own will, or I will force you to go." Evelyn opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it and closed it. Marcus turned to Cullen "Get everybody ready to go. Once you are past the treeline set off a flare so I'll know." 

The Commander nodded and turned to his men who stood waiting "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry. Move!" 

The soldiers moved to obey Cullen's orders as Cole took Roderick's arm around his shoulder and helped him along. The Chancellor stopped before Marcus. "Perhaps I... perhaps everybody was wrong about you. Wrong about the Inquisition. I will pray for your success, and for your safety." Marcus nodded in appreciation. He watched as the others left before he turned to leave when a hand on his shoulder pauldron stopped him. As he turned he was pulled into an embrace. 

"Come back to us." Leliana whispered in his ear, before she pressed her lips to his cheek and released him. 

"I'll... do my best." he smiled guiltily, refusing to meet her eyes before putting Otar back over his face. She turned to rejoin the others, giving him one last look over her shoulder before disappearing. He closed his eyes. _Inhale count to three exhale._ He let the breath out slowly through his nose and turned to the front door of the Chantry. In two steps he reached it, lifted the bar and tossed it to the side, then pushed them open. 

Everything was burning from dragonfire and it had begun to snow. Corpses littered the ground where they had fallen, both Inquisition and Red Templar. The next wave was just beginning to arrive, climbing up towards him from the wall. He noticed a mixture of the massive overgrown knights and the lyrium abominations along with their less mutated brethren, both swordsmen and archers. Not many to his surprise. The main force seemed to still hold back. They quickly closed in on him as a smile crept onto his lips. He was alone against them. There were no allies to worry about killing by mistake, no concern for unwanted collateral damage. He had no reason to hold back. 

"Mul Qah Diiv!" 

They kept coming, wave after wave, and he cut through them like they were made from cloth. His strength, speed, and reflexes were all enhanced far beyond what was humanly possible by the Thu'um. He slowed time to a crawl and carved the Templars to pieces like one would a cake, or froze entire platoons to stone, or obliterated them with waves of force that sent them catapulting through the air like ragdolls. It was so rare that he got to cut loose and this Elder One had handed them the opportunity on a crimson platter. He would have to thank him before he ended the freak's miserable existence. 

"Gaan Laah Haas!" he shouted at the next group of Templars as an arrow struck his left pauldron, snapped in half, and spun off to the side harmlessly. Those caught in the shout's path were drained of their their life force. They  wilted, withered, and died before his eyes and their essence only served to reinvigorate their killer. What hope could a mortal have against a being whose power was granted by gods? 

As he pulled his blood soaked blade from his latest victim a deep roar caught his attention. His gaze fell on a monster of comparable size to the giants that roamed the plains of Whiterun in Skyrim. A human who had grown to freakish size with red lyrium sprouting from its body like a horrifically disfigured pincushion. One of the creature's arms had been turned into a gigantic club. It charged him, club raised to crush him like an insect, behind it were more Templars moving to engage him. Marcus used whirlwind sprint to move from the beast's path, turned on his heel and shouted again.

"Rii Vaaz Zol!" Purple light struck the pitiful creature where its abdomen had once been. He watched as the creature's soul was torn from its body and dispersed into the abyss. The Templars that were following the behemoth into the fray stopped in their tracks as it dropped like a bag of rocks at their feet with an earthshaking thud. The Templars, seemingly unphased by the beast's death started towards him again, only to be swept aside by the resurrected behemoth's massive arm. It stumbled to its feet and began to tear through its former comrades, driven by it need to serve its new master in death. He took the distraction as a moment to catch his breath and evaluate his position. Corpses littered the ground, their blood turning the snow a bright shade of crimson. His armor, shield and blade were coated as well. It was battles like these that made him thankful for the mask. 

It wouldn't be long now. Any being that aspired to godhood wouldn't be able to tolerate this sort of resistance for long. His mighty army's inability to slay this lone warrior was a humiliation, a direct blow to the Elder One's ego. He would have to come for Marcus personally out of pride, to show that he was still a power to be feared and obeyed among his followers. He would have to crush this interloper personally to send a message, and this hubris would be his downfall. 

The rush of wings over his head and the roar of the Elder One's dragon showed that his efforts had not been in vain. Fire began to ignite in the beast's great maw as it closed the distance and Marcus smiled. The moment before it released the inferno upon him he shouted

"Feim!" The blaze passed through Marcus without so much as singing the cloth of his hood. He stepped out of the flames and turned to face the dragon as it looped around and came for him again. This time, rather than strafing him as it had before, it took a position hovering in the air ahead, preparing to roast him alive where he stood. Behind him, he could hear his behemoth thrall holding the Templars at bay, though the effect of his magic would not last forever. It was time to end this. 

"Gol Hah Dov!" 

The golden light struck the dragon, or Archdemon, whatever it was, and the effects of his Thu'um were immediate. The beast went limp, and dropped from the sky like a comet, slamming into a burning building and sending splinters of stone and wood zipping through the air in every direction. Marcus held his shield before him for protection, though it was unnecessary. A few splinters of lumber wouldn't get through Ebony plate. 

He watched as the creature stumbled to its massive clawed feet, thrashing around violently screeching in pain, though he could not see any significant wounds from its fall. What Marcus didn't know was the battle for control being waged in the beast's mind. The Elder One's power and Marcus' will dug their claws into the dragon's mind and grabbed, pulled and battled in opposite directions, attempting to wrest control from the other. Her fragile mind was on the brink of being torn in apart, utterly ruined by two opposing wills. 

"Enough!" a voice like the sandpaper grinding against stone called out from beyond. Marcus turned towards the sound to seem him, far less easy to look upon up close, appear from a cloud of black mist. Behind him stood what remained of his proud army, pouring over the walls and through the broken gate. The entire force now within the confines of the valley. He could see Samson, the Elder One's general standing behind his master grinning toothily at him. The behemoth charged them, but disintegrated into nothing as the spell wore out its effect.  _Finally_. Marcus smirked behind his mask. The fool had taken the bait. 

Marcus bowed slightly at the waist in a mock show of greeting. "Welcome to Haven. I feel compelled to apologize for the less than warm welcome." he shrugged "But I have never been able to tolerate impolite guests. Particularly those who have arrived... uninvited. I understand that you were expecting the Herald of Andraste to host you and your party. Unfortunately she is indisposed at the moment and you will have to settle for me." The dragon continued to write in pain behind him. 

"Boldness and humor from one who knows that his end approaches." the Elder One spat "A brave but ultimately irrelevant gesture. You will die for those who abandoned you and your death shall mean nothing. Your Herald and her pitiful band of miscreants and gnats will not make it far before I catch them. I will slay your beloved Herald and reclaim the mark that she stole from me. Those who kneel shall be spared, those who continue their meaningless resistance shall die as she will. You have shown strength beyond those whom you serve, child of another world. Your might is wasted on mortals far lesser than you, lacking in foresight and ambition." Marcus raised his eyebrow in surprise, though he wouldn't let it distract him. "You would make a worthy addition to our cause. Bend your knee, swear fealty to the will that is Corypheus, and I will bestow my mercy upon you. Distinguish yourself in service to your new god, and you shall live as a king among men." 

"A tempting offer. Allow me to counter with my own." Marcus replied, his voice calm and dismissive, not betraying fear or doubt. "Take your army and leave immediately. Return to whatever miserable pit you crawled out of and stay there. Remain in this valley and I will slaughter you to the last man." A laugh rose from Samson and a number of the corrupted Templars, but the Elder One remained unamused. An orb of some sort of indistinguishable stone materialized in his hand, humming with red wisps of magic. he extended the hand towards Marcus.  

"As you wi-." A primal screech, utterly inhuman, sounding like neither man nor beast arose from behind the Dragonborn. The dragon's mind had been utterly shattered by the strain of conflicting powers within it. Neither he nor the Elder One had control over the raving beast, which now acted purely on instinct. Great wings began beating down towards the earth, pushing the dragon into the air. It roared in terrible agony flying over the army, spitting burning red lyrium on those below as they ran to escape the dragon's rage. With another roar it turned and soared over the mountain and out of sight. 

"What have you done!?" The Elder One growled. He raised the hand with the orb again and blasted Marcus back with a powerful pulse of magic. He slammed hard into the wall of a burning house, the back of his head knocking hard against the unyielding lumber structure. He nearly blacked out from the blow, his vision went blurry and stars flashed before his eyes. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and his legs shook as he got back to his feet, and he struggled to keep his balance. His gaze was fixed on the Elder One and him alone. His army was still in disarray from the dragon's assault. Corypheus glared only at him. His eyes burning with raw fury and contempt for this one mortal who dared to hinder his plans so brazenly.   

"I will take great pleasure in killing yo-." for the second time his words were cut off as he looked skyward. Marcus' eyes followed his gaze to see a flare glowing brilliantly in contrast to the dark night sky. They had made it out of the valley. Marcus returned his gaze to the Elder One and inhaled deeply. One last shout.

"Strun Bah Qo!" The effect was immediate. The light clouds of snow, darkened only by the smoke from the burning town was replaced in an instant by black storm clouds, reflecting the light of the fires back down upon them. The downpour was instant and brutally unrelenting. There was a crack of thunder as the first bolt of lightning struck far behind Corypheus, but the screams could still be heard over raging storm. Despite the throbbing pain in his head and the fatigue that wracked his body Marcus couldn't help but smile. 

"Time's up." 


	28. Escape

The snow was coming down harder as the stream of refugees poured past Evelyn through the treeline that marked the border of the Valley of Sacred Ashes. They had managed to salvage a number of tents and even save a few of the Brontos they kept as beasts of burden. She gripped her fur cloak tightly around her as she gazed solemnly at the sight before her. Below them the town of Haven burned, a brilliant torch in the surrounding darkness of night and storms. Even from this distance she could hear the sounds of battle below. The screams of the wounded and dying, the clash of steel, and  _him._ His voice penetrated the darkness, and with every shout the ground beneath her feet trembled. The Red Templars stormed into Haven to be repulsed, regroup, and try again, and again. He had stayed behind for them, for her and they had left him. She had been the only one to protest. 

Her gaze fell on the people filing past her, soldiers and civilians alike, being herded and guided through the snow by Seeker Cassandra, Cullen and his surviving Templars past the treeline that marked the border of the Valley of Sacred Ashes. They carried what little they had managed to salvage from the burning town before they had fled. Horse Master Dennet and his stable hands had managed to rescue the horses from their pens, as well as a few Brontos. The grievously wounded had been loaded into wagons next to the supplies that had been saved, which struggled up the slope through the deepening snow and would likely have to be abandoned if the storm got worse. Evelyn watched as the Bull's Chargers helped a strained Bronto team dislodge a particularly heavily loaded wagon that had sunk to deep, preventing the wheels from gaining traction. A couple soldiers who hadn't been injured rushed over to help and they finally got it moving again.

Mother Giselle passed near her carrying two small crying children in her arms. Neither of them could have been older than three. Evelyn began to wonder where their parents were when the realization hit her. They were down in the valley among the countless others who hadn't been so fortunate as to escape with their lives. Evelyn watched as Enchanter Vivienne shambled past, her typically calm and composed demeanor shattered. Her eyes were hollow, staring forward as though unaware of the world around. Her prim and pristine clothes were in disarray and stained with blood. Sera followed closely behind, clutching a bleeding wound on her forarm and muttering obscenities under her breath. Blackwall, with a bloodied bandage wrapped around his forehead, carried another child on one arm while offering his free shoulder to a wounded elven woman. 

"Your worship." Evelyn nearly leapt out of her skin at the sound of the familiar voice of the Inquisition's spymaster. She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even heard Leliana approach from behind. Though she shouldn't be surprised. In the few times they had spoken outside the war room the former bard had seemed to materialize out of nowhere and scare her pants off from behind. The former bard probably got some sort of twisted amusement out of doing that to people. 

"Is everything alright?" She mentally cringed at the stupidity of the question. Their home consumed by flame, the battle raging below, and the scores of wounded, dying and lost struggling through the snow made it abundantly clear that things were  _far, FAR_ from 'alright'. 

"This storm is getting worse." Leliana replied "I have sent agents ahead to search for a sufficient clearing to make camp until the snows clear." Her voice was flat, the features of her face shrouded by her violet cowl in the darkness of the night. "Unless we find somewhere soon these people are going to freeze to death."  

"I know." 

"My agents could use your help with the scouting parties. We know nothing about what lies ahead of us and with so many wounded we need every able body to do their part."

"I... can't." Evelyn sighed "Somebody needs to stay behind to wait for Marcus."

"Right now getting everybody to safety is our only priority. We can't spare anybody to wait for him. Not with a blizzard approaching. 

"But we can't just leave him down there!" Evelyn cried exasperated "All of this is my fault yet he's the one who's paying the price? So many people have died for me already. He's my friend! How am I supposed to live with myself if he's killed too?" 

In the blink of an eye, Leliana had grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her against the trunk of a nearby tree with enough force that it knocked the snow from some of the lower branches. "Listen to me." Leliana hissed, her face a mere few inches from Evelyn's. "Marcus made his choice. He bought us the time we needed to escape. He has given us an opportunity to live, to keep fighting another day. I am not going to allow you to throw away this opportunity he has given us over your misplaced guilt. Right now we need a leader, not some frightened child feeling sorry for herself. However you might feel about this personally, whether you believe Andraste chose you or not, these people look up to you for leadership and guidance. Marcus is doing his part to make sure that we come out of this with our lives, you need to ensure that you do yours." 

Evelyn opened her mouth to retort when a deafening roar snapped both of their attention back to the carnage below. The Elder One's Archdemon had returned, drawn in by the fighting. The beast roared again as it soared over the village belching a river of burning red lyrium down on Marcus below. They watched as the beast circled around, coming to hover above Haven, beating its mighty wings to stay in the air. The dragon reared its head to attack again when a golden light struck it from below. Almost immediately the dragon's strength left it and it dropped from the sky, crushing a burning hovel beneath its enormous body. The beast began to thrash violently in the flaming ruin of the house as though it were in agonizing pain, but it didn't play out as Marcus had believed. The dragon did not rise to meet the oncoming Red Templars as they moved on Haven in force. They watched as tiny specks of light from countless torches poured over the walls and through the battered and broken gate where they were met with silence. Something was wrong. 

"Everybody is clear of the valley." a new voice called out, and both women snapped their gaze to the newcomer. Commander Cullen waded through the deepening snow towards them, a lit torch in his hand. Behind him followed Ambassador Montilyet, several soldiers and part of the Inquisition's inner circle. Evelyn counted Varric, Solas, and the Iron Bull. Everybody looked beaten, bloodied, and fatigued from the vicious fight they had only just escaped, and grateful to have made it out with their lives. They all stood uncomfortably, sparing glances down at what was below them. 

Evelyn sighed "Light the flare then..." 

The faint sound of shouting from down in the village stopped her mid sentence. She looked down to see that the Elder One's dragon had gotten back to its feet and taken flight. But its movements were erratic, unnatural. It lashed out at everything near it with the savagery of a trapped animal, immolating a number of Templars as they scrambled to get out of its path before flying higher and disappearing over the mountain with a roar. Still no sign of Marcus. 

"What just happened?" Varric asked, arms wrapped around his chest to stave off the cold "Is he even still alive down there?" 

"I don't know." Evelyn said softly, turning to Cullen. "Light the flare. I suppose we'll find out soon enough." 

Cullen's soldiers stuck the flare in the ground and Cullen put his torch to the fuse. It shot off into the cloudy sky up through the snow that pelting the earth. The seconds passed by in agonizing silence as they waited for the response. But only silence greeted them.

"He must either be dead or close to it." Cullen grumbled, rubbing the back of his head "Our only hope is to lose them in this blizzard..." 

"Strun Bah Qo!" 

The light snow clouds blotting out the night sky became black. The snow that had been drifting to the ground vanished, and in its place came a torrent of freezing rain. They all ran for cover beneath the branches of the evergreen trees that lined the border of the valley. The rain was heavy, coming down hard and fast. 

"What's he going to do? Drow..." Varric's words were drowned by a massive thunderclap above their heads. The night sky lit up like broad daylight as a bolt lightning struck somewhere in the valley. Before the light had faded another bolt struck further to the East, then another, and another, and another. The storm, of unnatural and unmatched fury ravaged the Templar army without discrimination and offering no quarter. Many of the refugees, drawn back by the rolling thunder watched the scene that played out before them. Those on the border of the valley could do little but stare wide-eyed in awe as Armageddon rained from the skies onto the Elder One's army in a savage display of raw power. 

"Maker have mercy on their souls." Josephine whispered, unheard by the others over the roar of the thunder. 

"Am I the only one whose got a little shit in his pants right now?" Bull asked a little more loudly than he had meant to. He was hardly unfamiliar with magic. Years of fighting the Vints on Seheron had left the two more closely acquainted than he would have liked, but this... this was far beyond anything he had seen.

"No Tiny, you're not." Varric breathed "Poor bastards. I don't think any of them are making it out of that." 

"We need to go." The Commander spoke up, snapping everyone out of their trance, not taking his eyes off of the slaughter playing down in the valley below. "Now." 

As though to punctuate his statement, a bolt of electricity struck a tree a few dozen yards to their front with a deafening bang that left their ears ringing and heads rolling. The tree was split vertically down the middle, each half splaying to opposite sides as the wood quickly caught fire and began to burn. Electricity crackled through the air and the wind shifted, carrying the scent of scorched flesh and smoke from burning lumber from the valley below. The fires were spreading in their direction with the gale and the downpour of rain from Marcus' storm was doing little to douse them.

"Curly's right. I can think of half a dozen ways wewill be killed if we stay here, and frankly I'd rather live to fight another day." Varric retorted, though he gave Evelyn a sympathetic smile. "Marcus is a tough bastard. I'm sure he'll find a way to escape." though he couldn't disguise the uncertainty in his voice. 

Evelyn closed her eyes, inhaled deeply through her nose then released the shuddering breath through her mouth. Leliana's words rang true. These people needed her to be their leader, whether she wanted to or not. Marcus was doing his part, now she needed to do hers. She opened her eyes and nodded to Cullen. "We need to find a place to set up camp for the night quickly before the storm overwhelms us." she said "Leliana's already sent out scouting parties to map out the pass ahead. I'll lead the next one personally. Varric, Solas, Bull, since you're here right now, you will join me." 

"Of course, Herald." Solas responded, though he still gazed upon the valley out of the corner of his eye. 

"Cullen. Once we're settled, I want you and Quartermaster Threnn to take inventory of the supplies we salvaged from Haven. Have your soldiers make sure everybody gets something to eat and is staying warm. We've already lost enough people to the Elder One, I don't want anybody else dying from the cold. Once the storm has cleared you should set up hunting and foraging parties. What little food we scavenged won't last this many people for long." 

Cullen nodded affirmatively "By your command, Your Worship." 

Evelyn turned to the ambassador. "I want a headcount of everybody still with us, as well as work assignments for every able body. Have our mages do what they can for the wounded" then she added "While it's not an immediate concern, but the families of the dead will need to be notified eventually... we owe them at least that much for their sacrifices." 

"Understood." Josephine replied with a slight bow, struggling to regain her composure. 

"Leliana. I need you to continue coordinating the scouting parties. Once we've set up camp, I want your agents guarding the perimeter at all times. We cannot let the enemy catch us by surprise again." 

"No, we cannot." Leliana spoke solemnly. The spymaster gave the burning town a long gaze that was impossible to read. The features of her face shrouded by the violet hood she wore, arms crossed beneath her chest. 

"Alright. That's enough milling about with our thumbs up our asses. Everybody has a job to do so get to it!" she barked. Immediately everybody began to respond. Cullen gave his orders to his men before moving off through the treeline with Josephine in tail. Leliana turned away from the village, disappearing through the woods in search of her agents. Her four companions were all that remained with her, waiting in silent expectation for her to lead them. Everybody expected her to get them through this disaster, and in spite of her doubts and fears, she would do her damned best to keep them alive. With a heavy sigh and one last look at the village that she had called home for the past months, now engulfed in a deluge of rain and fire, she turned away from the past to look towards the future, to be the Herald everybody needed her to be. Right now these people needed her, and Marcus was on his own. 

* * *

Everything hurt. His brain pounded antagonistically against his skull as he struggled through fire, snow, and death. The blow to his head had been worse than he'd realized at first. His thoughts were muddled and confused as his vision blurred in and out of focus. Blood flowed freely from his tongue where he had nearly bitten through on impact with the wall of the burning hut. Trying to think, to plan ahead was hopeless with his mind a jumbled mess. He had to take things one step at a time. One purpose, one goal to focus on. _Get to the Chantry. Get to the Chantry Get to the Chantry..._ He repeated the same four words again and again in his head as he trudged on through fire and blood, arms, blade and shield in hand hanging limply at his sides. 

Marcus could see through the narrow slits of the mask adorning his face the destruction he had wrought. The Elder One had fled, wounded grievously by half a dozen bolts from the heavens. Marcus was unsure if he would escape the valley with his life, though he doubted it. Corypheus' army had even less a chance than its master. Apparently not all sense of self-preservation had been stripped from these abominations who had once been the men and women of the Templar Order. Many attempted to flee. To where? Marcus was uncertain. Few made it far before their flight was ended. Others attempted to take revenge on the man who had doomed them all. One last act of defiance before their lives were cut short by the raging storm. None of them made it close to him before the lightning cut them down, blasting through plate-mail and searing flesh.

As Marcus reached the stone steps leading to the only building still intact, he felt a sudden jolt from behind that impacted him in the center of his back, nearly knocking him off of his feet. Something else shot past his ear, the sound nearly drowned out by the roaring thunder and pouring rain making metallic pangs as it struck his armor. Distantly, in the back of his mind he realized they were shooting arrows at him. Instinctively he ducked his head low and let his armor do what he had forged it to do, ignoring the archers and everything else but what lie directly ahead. _Get to the Chantry..._  

A thunderous roar and the splintering of wood forced his gaze in its direction just in time to receive a tremendous blow to the chest that sent him careening through the air and slamming back to earth on the stone steps. The impact knocked the air from his lungs and sent his blade clattering across the stairs. His head screamed in agony as he choked and gasped, struggling to breath. A stabbing pain like a dagger being twisted into his flank shot through his ribs and he nearly blacked out. His vision blurred again as he turned his head towards his assailant, still laying haphazardly like a rag doll upon the steps. A behemoth had caught him unaware, charging him through one of the burning huts and swatting him aside with its immense club-like arm. It started towards him as he struggled to get back to his feet, lumbering forward as it raised it's enormous fist to crush him. It got within five yards when a bolt of lighting soared through the night sky and struck it with such force that the red lyrium shards covering its mutilated body shattered, flying off in all directions trailing smoke. The smoldering corpse, killed all but instantly dropped its arm and fell to the soggy ground with an earth shaking thud splashing everything nearby with mud.

Marcus wasn't sure how long he just lay there, staring at the beast's corpse, processing the fact that he was still alive. The archers were gone, dead, or fled like the others. He could still see living Red Templars out in the valley, and a few within the walls seeking what little cover that hadn't set ablaze. But most were already dead. Storm Call worked quickly, indiscriminately, and ruthlessly as it always had. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, clamping his jaws together as another dagger of pain shot through his ribs. Some of them had been fractured, he had little doubt, but he counted his blessings that neither of his lungs had been punctured. He stooped low to pick up his dragonbone blade from the steps and trudged on towards his destination.  _Get to the Chantry..._

Leliana's tent was burning, though he did not know if it was from Corypheus' dragon, or his storm. His mind flashed back to the not so distant past, this was where he had learned to play chess, where he had made his first friend since becoming trapped in this foreign world, where he had first felt at peace in so long, he couldn't begin to guess. Suddenly, his mask felt suffocating. He pushed the muddled thoughts from his head. He had to focus.  _Get to the Chantry_. The doors had been closed behind him, but not barred. With great effort, he pushed them open, shimmied through and slammed them closed. 

 _Alright, step one completed_. He thought to himself as he slumped down against the heavy wood and cast iron of the double doors of the Chantry. He pulled down his hood and removed Otar from his face as spat out a glob of blood, before letting his blade fall to the stone floor, and his shield rest against his side as he took a look around. The room was deserted, and looked like it had been ransacked. Everything that could be carried off was, including several of the statues of Andraste that had once adorned the hall. He tried to inhale deeply, to regain his breath, but it jostled his broken ribs. Marcus cried out in pain, his voice echoing through the empty chamber, the only sound other than the downpour and thunder roaring outside. He needed to do something about his injuries. With immense effort, pouring all of his concentration into this one action, he struggled to pull from his pool of magicka, summoning a restoration spell. He lifted his arm, which felt as though it were made from stone above his head, the golden glow of his healing spell pooling in his hand. He twirled his wrist and opened his fingers. The golden glow flowed forth from his hand, making its way down his arm to his shoulder, then continued upwards towards his head and down to his toes. 

The spell was weak, designed to care for minor injuries, cuts and lacerations rather than broken bones and concussions but it helped to dull the pain some. The adrenaline of battle was beginning to wear off and exhaustion was setting in. His muscles screamed at the strain of being overworked well beyond what was a normal human would be capable and a restoration spell was only of some help in the matter. It soothed the pain, but didn't energize or reinvigorate. A small voice in the back of his head told him to just rest for a little while, close his eyes and relax. He'd made it this far through hell, he'd earned a small respite. But Marcus knew that he couldn't. If he closed his eyes he would be asleep in moments, and if he fell asleep he would die.

Marcus took a few deep breaths to test himself. Jabs of needling pain pulsed through his chest, but it wasn't quite as bad as it had been before. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his armor's enchantments had protected him from the flames, but could not protect him from the exertion of battle, and gently pushed himself to his feet, his arms shaking, straining under his weight. He slid his blade back into its scabbard and swung Spellbreaker around his shoulders and across his back. He gazed down into the face of Otar for a brief moment before donning the mask once again. He walked down the empty hall to the doorway the others had left through to reach the secret pass that Roderick had spoken of. With the blizzard brewing and the numerous civilians and wounded they couldn't be that far ahead. Then again, he wasn't exactly in the best shape either. He wasn't sure exactly where this pass was, but he didn't need to. All he had to do was follow the prints they had left in the snow and he would find them. 

It wasn't long before Marcus found the pass. The Maker, or whatever gods ruled over this world had been merciful and the rain hadn't completely marred the prints in the snow beyond recognition. Though his muscles strained in protest with every step, the fact that he was on their trail reinvigorated him. Weariness, exhaustion and pain were shunted aside as he stumbled and tripped his way up the hill and out of the Valley of Sacred Ashes. The Templars hadn't followed him. By this point they were either dead or dying and this valley, once one of the most sacred places in all of Andrastianism, would serve as their tomb. Looking back at the inferno below him, he pitied them. Twisted and corrupted into something inhuman, something abominable, only to be used as fodder in a madman's psychotic bid at godhood. Marcus had never liked the Templar Order. In his personal experience they had come off as nothing more than bullies on a power trip, abusing the authority they held for personal gain or even just sadistic amusement, but even they deserved better than this. Nobody deserved what horrors the red lyrium had inflicted on them. 

He blinked rapidly, pushing the errant thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus.  _Follow the trail_ _... Follow the trail_ _..._ He trudged on, following the prints in the snow past the woods that marked the border of the valley. Outside of the glow of the flames it was difficult to see, nearly impossible in the blackness of night and the shade of the trees.  The Moon and stars had been blocked out by storm clouds, depriving him of any natural light.He had passed the point where his storm met the blizzard. Rain was replaced by torrents of snow, all but blinding him, making seeing anything past a few feet before him hopeless. Again he reached deep into his reserves of Magicka, pulling forth enough to cast a candlelight spell. The bright blue orb shot forth from his hand, rising through the air to hover a few feet above his head, cutting through the snow and darkness, illuminating the forest around him. He couldn't let this blizzard last much longer, or his trail would be completely buried by fresh snowfall. He knew he could dissipate the storm on a whim, but the words... the words eluded him. He dosed himself with another bout of restoration magic, trying to calm the migraine hammering contemptuously into his brain. He paused for a moment, swaying on his feet as the world seemed to spin around him. There was a sudden rumbling in his gut that reached all the way up to his throat. Realizing just in time, he pulled his mask off and dropped to his hands and knees just as bile poured forth from his mouth, staining the pristine whiteness of the deepening layer of snow coating the ground. He took shallow, steady breaths, anything deeper wracked his chest with pain. He rolled onto his back, sinking down into the snow, his eyes stared up into the orb of blue light illuminating the canopy of evergreen trees above.

The fatigue and pain had utterly worn him down. He couldn't think, couldn't remember. His thoughts were a jumbled quagmire of chaos and confusion. His muscles wouldn't respond to his commands and his armor felt as though he carried a mammoth on his back. Any attempt to breath made him feel as though another stood on his chest. The wind ripped through the trees as snowflakes pelted him from above, brushing across his bare face like frozen fingers of ice. Strangely the cold was beginning to recede, slowly being drawn away, and replaced by a comforting warmth, like sitting before a blazing hearth in a tavern, drinking a pint of ale. He wanted to close his eyes and lay back, to let the warmth envelop him in its ever so inviting embrace. But he knew better. He was no stranger to extreme cold and what it could do to your body, to your mind. The enchantments in his armor protected him from the elements, both mystic and mundane. They were the only reason he hadn't frozen to death already, but they could only protect him for so long. He needed to get up, needed to keep going when all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep. Marcus had promised himself that he would find a way back to Tamriel. That he would let nothing stop him. He had to get up. He didn't belong in Thedas, it wasn't his home and he was _not_ going to die here.

With immense effort, gritting his teeth to stave off the pain in his chest, he was back on his feet, refastening Otar to his wind chilled face. The wind blew at his back, seemingly pushing him forward. The tracks the fleeing Inquisition had left were still visible in the deepening snow, but barely. He needed to find them quickly, or remember his power and be rid of this gods cursed storm.  _Follow the trail, find the others... Follow the trail, find the others..._ he repeated in his head over and over. He waded through the knee deep snow, one slow step at a time. He didn't know for how long he walked, but eventually he reached the edge of the woods and found himself at the mouth of a narrow canyon leading through the mountains that rose up hundreds of feet on either side. This had to be the way they came. It was the only way. 

The storm showed no signs of relenting, only getting more severe with each step he took. The wind began to howl around him, continuing to push at his back with enough force that the snow seemed to fall almost horizontally. A white sheen of frost had formed over his shoulders and back as visibility was reduced to barely a few feet in any direction. The glowing orb of magicka that followed him like a dog begging for table scraps aided, but only so much. The valley wasn't particularly large, more of a mountain pass than anything else really, but one could still get lost if they could not see where their feet took them. By this point the trail had gone cold. The tracks, left by people, beasts, and wagons were gone, filled in completely by the snow. He needed to stop and think, needed to remember how to be rid of this storm or he would be doomed to stumble about these mountains with little hope of finding the others. 

The merciless pounding in his skull had not abated. He had pushed all thoughts from his mind other than his singular goal of following the trail through the snow left by the fleeing Inquisition. But that goal was no longer attainable. He dug deep into his pool of magicka, all but scraping the bottom for one last bit of restoration. The spell had helped to dull the debilitating pain that wracked his head, helped to clear his thoughts, if only momentarily. He needed to remember clear skies. It was his only chance to send a message to the others that he was still alive. He needed to end the storm so they could send somebody to find him. As the golden glow swirled around him he dropped all thoughts of the others. Focusing all of his willpower on remembering the words of the Shout.  _What was the first word... what was the first- Lok! Yes. It was Lok. Sky in the common Tamrielic._ One word wouldn't be sufficient. Not against a storm of this magnitude. He needed all three.  _Ok, the second word... second word, did it begin with a B...? No, that doesn't sound right... V? Yes, V. That sounds right. Voh...? No... Lok Vah- Yes! Sky -Spring. That's it. Lok Vah!_ He took a deep breath, ignoring the daggers in his side. Slowly, he released it through the mouth slit in his mask, watching as the air turned into steam upon meeting the freezing air.  _Alright third word. Lok, Vah...? Only one more. You can do this Marcus. Focus! Lok Vah... Krah? No that means cold. The last thing I need right now... Kiir...? No no no. Ka... Koo.... Koor! Summer! That's it! Koor! Lok Vah Koor!_

He gazed into the clouds above and took a deep breath, pain shooting through his chest from his fractured ribcage. He ignored it. He couldn't let something as menial as pain stop him. Su'um Ahrk Morah, breath and focus. They were to key to mastery of the Thu'um, as Paarthurnax had taught him all those years ago.  _Su'um Ahrk Morah_.

"Lok Vah Koor!" 

There was a crack of thunder as the Thu'um roared forth, his words giving focus and purpose to the raw power that resided within him. The swirling gale of snow wilted and died as he watched the clouds dissipate into nothing. A half moon shone brightly in the clear night sky among a million twinkling points of light. Marcus gave a triumphant smile behind his mask, gazing up at a clear sky for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He took two steps forward before his legs gave out beneath him and was consumed by darkness. 


	29. Hurt

Slowly he drifted back to consciousness. The cold was gone, replaced by a comforting warmth that had long since been lost to him. Though to be honest, he felt like absolute shit. He couldn't have named a part of him that didn't hurt if he tried. He could feel something warm, and inviting wrapped around his body, something made of fur. He could hear voices as well, but distant and muffled, the words indistinguishable to his muddled mind. He opened his eyes, trying to get a sense of where he was, but his vision was as blurred and confused as his mind. He lay there for a minute, staring up, letting his senses come back to him. His face, head, and torso itched something fierce and when he reached his hand up to scratch his cheek, he felt fabric beneath his fingers.

"Leave that be. It's there for a reason" A woman's voice called out from the blur, strong and commanding, but unfamiliar. His gaze followed the voice as his eyesight began to clear. The speaker was a short plump woman, middle aged with strawberry blonde hair that was beginning to show signs of graying. She wore the typical robes of one of the members of the Circles of Magi. His memory crept back to him piece by piece and he soon recognized her as one of the mages Fiona had sent back with the Inquisition after they had been conscripted. She looked weary, like she hadn't slept for some time,with dark circles beneath her eyes. He was in a tent, that much was certain and from what he could tell, he and the mage were the only two occupants. The warm glow of sunlight filtered through the thing canvas of the tent walls. Marcus tried to push himself up out of bed, which was really more of a cot, but a jolt of pain shot through his ribs and he bit back a cry with gritted teeth. The mage was by his side in a heartbeat, placing a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder and pushing him back down onto the cot. "You just lay there and rest. I just spent a day putting you back together. I won't be doing it twice." she moved her hand from his shoulder to his forehead and left it there for a brief moment and hummed "Good. Fever's gone down since I last checked on you." 

"Where-?" Marcus managed to choke out, as the Mage began examining the bandage around his head. 

"You're safe. The Herald and Seeker Pentaghast found you passed out in the snow and somehow managed to drag your rear all the way back to camp." she chuckled "Maker, you must way half a ton and that's without the armor." she studied the look on his face and smiled wryly. "I'm jesting of course, but you're no feather weight. I had help getting you out of that armor, but turning you over to change your bandages was a real pain in my rump." 

"How bad?" he asked, easing himself into the not particularly comfortable palette he'd been laid down upon. 

"Three fractured ribs, several more cracked badly. Some not insignificant internal bleeding. Severe bruising across most of your body. Minor frostbite on your face and one nasty concussion. To be frank, I'm astonished you're still alive."

Marcus tried to laugh but it only sent another stab of pain through his chest, he took shallow, steady breaths trying to ease the pain. His senses had almost fully returned, and speaking was easier. "Yeah... me too." The mage snorted, turning away from him to begin scribbling on a piece of paper. "Making predictions about when I'll kick the bucket?" 

"You'll be fine. I just prefer to keep notes on all my patients like any half decent healer should." she shrugged,  "When you have so many people to take care of you need to be able to tell them all apart. Who's got the sword wound through the gut, who has the broken arm, who's suffering from frostbite. So on, and so forth." she listed spinning her pen in the air for emphasis. "Can't keep track of them all without notes." 

"How many wounded?" 

The healer sighed "More than I can handle alone. But thankfully, I don't have to. We lost a lot of them in the first night, there wasn't much we could do for them but make their final hours relatively comfortable. Chancellor Roderick passed not long after he led us out of the valley. Those Templar scum hurt us bad, but you paid those bastards back tenfold for every one of ours they took. Sister Nightingale sent some scouts back to the Valley after you were brought in. Said it was nothing but a sea of Templar corpses and scorched earth." 

"Just as I thought." he let out a long, slow breath "So, everybody else made it?"

"Everybody but the wounded too far gone to survive. We've had a few cases of frostbite from the cold, but no other deaths." she replied as she finished with her notes on his condition. 

Marcus frowned "Why wasn't I put with the other wounded? Why did I get my own tent?" 

The healer turned back to him, a look of discomfort and unease filling her expression. "The people in charge felt it would be best if you were separated from the others." there was a brief pause before she quickly added "I don't care what the some of the others say. Everybody here owes you their lives and they should show some damn appreciation for that." 

"What exactly are they saying?" Marcus asked, anger beginning to pulse through his throbbing head as he pushed himself up onto his elbow.

The healer shook her head despondently "What you did... nobody's seen anything like that before. People always jump to false conclusions to explain something they do not comprehend. Some are calling you a demon. Others think you're an abomination. I've met more than my fair share of demons and abominations in Kirkwall, and I can promise that you are neither." 

Marcus gave a humorless chuckle and laid back down onto his back. "Of course they do. I wouldn't expect anything less." 

"I suppose not." she replied with a shrug "Well, your wounds are healing well, you don't seem in any danger of expiring and I have other patients to look after, so I should take my leave. Stay in bed, and I'll be sure to tell somebody that you've woken up." she picked up her notebook and turned to leave but stopped mid stride and turned back. "Oh, almost forgot. Somebody left you your belongings in the middle of the night. They're right behind the cot with your armor and weapons."

"Belongings?"

"Yes. A large journal, a painting of what I'm assuming was your family, a fur cloak and a change of clothes." the healer listed, gesturing to where the things lay. 

"Who?"

"Don't know." she shrugged "Was doing my round last night when I thought I saw somebody slip into your tent, I chased after them to run 'em off, but by the time I got here they were already gone."

"You have no idea who it was?"

"No, I could have sworn I got a look at his face... but I just can't remember." she paused, her brow creasing in concentration"I could ask around, see if anybody else might-." 

Marcus held up a hand to stop her and gave the woman a small smile "Don't worry about it. You have more than enough on your plate already."

"Suit yourself." she made for the tent flap but stopped again and turned back "Name's Myrna by the way." 

"Well, Myrna, you have my thanks not letting me die of internal bleeding." 

The mage gave him a tired smile. "You saved my life, so I'll consider us even on that count." 

Marcus laughed weakly, then took a moment to study her face. She had a gentle smile, but the fatigue of her work was wearing on her. "You look exhausted. Take care of yourself, get some rest." 

"I am exhausted. But I still have work to do." Myrna snorted "It's still early. Go back to sleep. I'll be back to check on you again in a few hours." 

"I'm feeling better. I'd like to go for a walk if it's alright-" Marcus said, trying to push himself back out of bed, only for Myrna to force him back down onto the cot with more force than before.

"It's not alright with me, and it shouldn't be alright with you." she retorted, glaring down at him with sharp eyes. "You will stay here in bed until I way you are well enough to leave it. Give me trouble and I promise I won't hesitate to knock you out and drag you back here. Am I understood?" 

Marcus opened his mouth to argue. The last thing he wanted to do was lay in bed like some helpless child, to be doted over and cared for like some pathetic invalid. He needed to show people that he wasn't broken. But he didn't want to fight her. She had saved his life, though it pained him to admit it."Yes ma'am." He relented begrudgingly leaned back into the pillow and closed his eyes, losing himself in the inviting warmth the the blanket and letting sleep take him once again. At least he wasn't dead. 

* * *

It was dark when he awoke again. Through the tent, he could see the glow of firelight outside, hear voices, louder and clearer than before though the words were difficult to make out. He recognized Varric's clearly enough, talking the loudest, as was his custom, but from the tone of the conversation, it wasn't a happy one. The smell of cooked food wafted through the air, causing his stomach to growl, twisting itself into knots with hunger pangs. He hadn't realized how famished he had been when he'd first woken up. It had to have been at least two days since he'd last eaten anything. His eyes began to adjust to the dark when he saw something seated next to his cot, silhouetted by the firelight. Slowly, he sat up in bed, his arms shaking under the strain of his weight, but careful not to agitate his injuries. The blanket slid down to pool at his waist, exposing his chest, completely bare but for the bandages wrapped around his torso. It was freezing. He chomped down on his teeth to keep them from chattering and pulled the furs back up to his shoulders. He took shallow breaths, and turned his gaze down to what lay beside him. On a small folding table sat a wooden trencher with a bowl of stew with a wooden spoon, and a cup of wine that somebody had left for him. He didn't have the slightest idea what was in that stew, but his stomach didn't care in the least. His arm shot out from beneath the blanket to grab the bowl, but in his haste he instead knocked it off the table where it shattered against the wooden boards that served as the tent's floor.

Outside, sitting around the fire were Bull, Dorian, Sera, Evelyn, Varric and Blackwall, picking at their own meals with little appetite, and huddling together for warmth. Varric had tried to tell a humorous tale to raise everyone's waning spirits, but even his heart wasn't truly in it. Haven had been a victory. The enemy had been utterly annihilated in a military defeat the likes of which had not been seen in Thedas since the massacre at Ostagar at the beginning of the Fifth Blight. They had made it away with their lives. But it didn't feel as such. They had been caught off guard with their pants down, and far too many of the innocent people had been butchered by the Red Templars. Haven itself had burned to ashes and now they were without a home and without anywhere to go. People were scared. Frightened by what had just happened and terrified of the uncertain future. Marcus' survival and expected recovery were miraculous, but a mixed blessing. Many of the survivors were as terrified of him as they were of Corypheus and it was difficult to fault them for their fears. Nobody really knew what to make of what they had seen. They owed him their lives. That much was true, and at least some of them had not forgotten. But for one man to have so much power to bring to bear on a whim? There repercussions of this would shake the nations of Thedas to their core.

Myrna had told them that he'd awoken this morning with his memories intact and was lucid enough to strike up a brief conversation. Some of them had wanted to go in and see him while he was awake, everybody had a thousand questions to ask, but Myrna had flat out told them no. She had stopped the bleeding, but his injuries were extensive, and he was still too weak to get out of bed. He needed his rest, so Evelyn had settled for bringing him a bowl of ram meat stew with a cup of mulled wine while he slept in case he woke up. A sudden crash and shattering of clay from the inside of his tent followed by a bout of cursing told them that he just had. 

"Awake for three seconds and he's already breaking shit." Varric quipped dryly as Evelyn pushed herself up from her seat. 

"I'll go see if he's alright." she said, and held up a hand when others moved to stand. "By myself. He doesn't need to be crowded by everybody all at once." 

She pushed through the tent's flap to see Marcus seated half-naked at the edge of his bed hunched over and scooping the shattered remains of the bowl she'd brought him only a short while ago. The firelight flooding into the dimly lit tent caught his attention and he looked up from the mess on the floor at her. His head and chest had been wrapped in bandaged with only his eyes and mouth remaining uncovered, making him look like a remarkably well preserved mummy. A weak smile crossed his lips as he straightened his back and Evelyn couldn't help but return one of her own for her friend. 

"You know, you're pretty damn hard to kill for an old man." 

"Laugh it up while you still can, Your Worship." Marcus snorted, knowing how much she hated that title. "It'll happen to you too someday. Besides, I'm not that old, yet."  

Evelyn laughed lightly and crossed over to him, kneeling before him and pulling him into a hug. "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like somebody to a hammer to my rib cage." he grunted, grimacing in pain and placing a hand against her shoulder to lightly push her away "Which you aren't helping." 

Evelyn winced with embarrassment and pulled away, dropping he arms to her side "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." she glanced down at the puddle of stew and broken clay that lay beside the bed "Here, let me clean this up for you." 

"Don't worry about it. I knocked it over, I'll clean it up." 

"You're wounded. It would be indecent of me to just sit here and watch." 

Marcus studied her for a moment as she swept up the broken shards of bowl and dropped them back onto the tray. Dark circles formed under her green eyes along with other marks of fatigue. There was a notable slump in her shoulders and a bandage across her left cheek where she had suffered a minor wound during the battle. She simply looked tired, worn down. It wasn't hard to see that she had received little sleep or rest since the battle. He picked up the cup of wine and studied it for a moment. The contents were indistinguishable in the dim light, but the smell was obvious. He downed it in a single gulp and placed the empty cup back onto the tray with the bits and pieces of his would be meal. "You aren't looking too good yourself."

She snorted, standing up. "Yeah thanks. I was worried it wasn't blatantly obvious. It's not just me either. Nobody's gotten much sleep since the attack, whether it's the nightmares, or just being to busy to take a moment to close their eyes." she shook her head "Corypheus' attack caught us completely off guard, and we're already low on supplies and able bodies. When I'm not running scouting missions for Leliana, I'm helping with the wounded or making sure everybody has something to eat. Not a whole lot of spare time for menial things like sleep."

Marcus gaze shot up at the mention of Corypheus. "Wait. How'd you know Corypheus' name?"

"Varric. Turns out he fought him before and killed him alongside the Champion of Kirkwall."

Marcus grunted "Obviously not well enough since he didn't stay dead." 

"Did you...?"

"Kill him? I don't know. I didn't see a body, so perhaps he escaped, or maybe he's just another corpse among the thousands out there. I didn't stick around long enough to look." he paused "But if Varric says that they already killed him but he came back somehow..." 

"There's a chance he's still out there somewhere?"

Marcus nodded "But without an army or his dragon it would do him little good to attack us alone. We have time to regroup and... and figure things out." he shifted uncomfortably in his bed and gestured to where his things lay. "Could you grab me a shirt and my cloak from over there? I'm already sick of laying in bed." 

Evelyn hesitated "Are you sure that's a good idea? Myrna said you needed more bed rest." 

"No." Marcus replied simply, pulling on his boots. "But my legs are stiff as boards and I really need to take a piss. Besides, I'm starving and i just knocked my food all over the floor." 

"Not an image I needed in my mind." she muttered, unsure of the wisdom of his decision, and that of disobeying the stout healer, but complied anyways. She grabbed a shirt from the pile of clothes she found with his belongings as well as the fur cloak he had mentioned, helping him into it. He buttoned it himself and held out an arm for her. She grasped it, pulling him to his feet with care to avoid causing him further pain. He slid on the robe and tried to take a step but staggered, barely catching himself on the corner of the cot before he fell. Evelyn's hand shot out and grasped his shoulder, pulling him back up. "I knew this was a bad idea. You should stay in bed."

"I'm alright. I'm not going to let a few bruises keep me down." 

"You know it's more than that, Marcus." Evelyn scolded "You nearly died. You haven't even had a full day to recover." 

"I said I'm alright." he snapped, more harshly than he had meant to, and shrugged her hand from his shoulder. Slowly, he took a few cautious steps forward, keeping his hands out for balance. Evelyn didn't protest any further, but stayed close behind ready to catch him if he stumbled and fell again.

Evelyn sighed "At least put some more layers on. You'll freeze wearing just that cloak."

Marcus snorted "You live in a place like Skyrim for as long as I did, and the cold looses its bite. I'll be alright." He paused briefly at the entrance to the tent, pulled his cloak's hood up over his head, took a deep breath and pushed through. The air was colder outside than it was inside the tent, but not by much. He took a moment to look around at his surroundings. The camp was situated in a large clearing situated at the foot of several mountains. His tent was situated at the edge of the camp, away from the others which were kept close together, in a circle with an open space in the middle. There were a number of fires burning across the camp, each one surrounded by people huddling beneath furs together for warmth. The night sky was nearly clear of clouds and the half-moon shone brightly, surrounded by a million tiny points of light. 

"Wasn't expecting you to be up so soon." a familiar voice called out to him from the nearest fire pit. He saw his companions seated around the blaze and gave them a small grin.

"Had to take a piss and using a bucket just seemed demeaning." 

Sera snorted "Jus' try an' not get frostbite all over your manly bits, yeah?" 

"Thank you for the advice Sera." he paused "Could somebody tell me where the latrines are?"

"Go through the middle of camp and take a left past the mess tent." the Iron Bull replied "They should be right there." 

"Thanks Bull." 

"You want someone to come with you?" Evelyn asked, a look of concern creasing the features of her face.

"I think I can take a piss without help. Thank you." Without another word, he turned and headed off in the direction that Iron Bull had pointed out. Those around the campfire watched until he had hobbled around the nearest tent and disappeared from view.

"He shouldn't be out of bed." Blackwall observed, turning back towards Evelyn.

"I've got to agree with Hero on this one." Varric added "With the shit he's been through, he shouldn't even be able to walk on his own." 

Evelyn sighed and shook her head "I tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted."

"You could have been firmer with him." Dorian said, but Evelyn only scoffed.

"Have you ever tried talking him out of something when his mind's made up? You'd have better luck convincing the wind to stop blowing." 

"He can barely stand. Hold him down and tie him to the bed if you have to." Bull suggested.

"Kinky." Dorian added, biting back a laugh "But that would likely only end in your spontaneous combustion." 

"The rest of you sawr him kill a few  _thousand_ Templars in a night too, right?" Sera exclaimed "I dunno 'bout the lotta you, but I'd rather stay on his good side." 

"Which is why you laughed at him and told him not to freeze his cock off?" Iron Bull interjected with a raised eyebrow.

"I- well- Just shut it." Sera pouted "He knows I wasn' serious." 

Evelyn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose between her gloved fingers. "I'm going to find help. Maybe somebody will convince him to stop being so damned thick-skulled."

"Doubt it." Varric shrugged.

Marcus followed the directions Bull had given him. They were simple enough and accurate. He passed by a number of people he recognized huddled around fires from where they watched him as he went by. Their looks were a mixture of fear and distrust, concern, awe, or just simple pity. Some greeted him with nods, or a few words and questions. A couple even go to their feet and offered him a shoulder to lean on given his injuries. Most just avoided meeting his gaze altogether. Every step was near agony, but he had to keep moving, had to show them that he was still strong. To show his pain was the show weakness, his vulnerability, mortality. He couldn't let anybody see this part of him, so he politely turned them down and kept moving until he'd passed the mess tent and rounded the corner to where the latrines sat directly ahead. They were simple things, a number of holes with wooden seats painstakingly dug into the frozen earth, likely with mage help and covered by a tent with curtains hung for privacy and a little protection from the wind and cold, and gods it was _cold_. His fur cloak was as warm as they came, a remnant of his few remaining belongings from Tamriel, but with so little clothing beneath it, there was only so much protection it could offer. He pushed into the nearest latrine and pulled the curtain closed behind him, quickly unlacing his trousers and relieving himself, then lacing them back up. He needed to get back the fire before Sera's warning became true. He stepped back outside, crossing his arms before his chest and rubbing his sides beneath his cloak in an attempt to keep warm. He only managed to take a few steps back towards the campfire before he was interrupted.

"What do you think you are doing?" Leliana demanded, stepping out from the shadows with Cassandra in tow. They were both dressed in layers of furs to keep warm, and even still Marcus could see them shivering in the merciless mountain cold. Behind them Marcus noticed Evelyn, remaining half in the shadow of the tent looking sheepish. 

"What does it look like I was doing? Using the latrine." Marcus replied, turning towards the women. "Can't a man take a piss without being bothered?" 

"You are wounded." Cassandra added, ignoring his second comment "You should be in bed resting, not wandering through camp on your own."

"So I've been told." 

"Cassandra's right, you know." Leliana scolded, looking him up and down. Marcus put an effort into standing straighter, and forcing his legs to stop shaking, but there was no fooling the spymaster. "You can barely stand. You aren't wearing enough to stay warm. You are going to freeze to death." 

"I fail to understand why everybody has their smallclothes in a twist over my need to use the latrine." Marcus replied with agitation "It's not as though I was planning to stand out her and freeze by balls off for kicks." 

"It isn't that. It's that you should have somebody with you. There is no shame in admitting when you need help." Evelyn tried to reason.

"So I should spend my time hobbling about with somebody to hold my hand so I don't slip on the ice and break my hip?" he laughed bitterly "Oh how the mighty have fallen. Look. I don't need your help. I've never needed _anybody's_ help. I know how to take care of myself." 

Leliana's gaze softened, and she took a step closer. "Something is bothering you, I know. You can talk, to me. Tell me what is on your mind."

"Right here?" Marcus looked around, as a small crowd had gathered, curious about the commotion, including the inner circle, the were murmuring to themselves, giving him awkward sideways glances. His head throbbed in pain, and anger flared, though he didn't completely understand why. "Fine." He simply spoke the first thing that came to his mind. No filter, no consideration, no restraint.  This is all _your_ fault." He gestured angrily to the camp around them, and to himself, to his wounds.

"Marcus." Evelyn gasped, but he silenced her with a glare so seething that it seemed as though the snow beneath their feet would melt. She shrank beneath his shadow as Marcus turned his attention back to Leliana.

"You failed the Inquisition. You failed everybody trapped in these wretched mountains and everybody left cold and dead back in Haven. Espionage and intelligence were  _YOUR_ _RESPSONSIBILITY,_ yet you allowed an army of thousands  _THOUSANDS_ to make its way through the mountains undetected and catch us off guard. Every single person we lost, every man and woman left behind is on you. Were this the Legion you would be tried by a military tribunal, court martialled and in all likelihood imprisoned for gross dereliction of duty."

Marcus turned to the crowd surrounding them. "Don't think for a moment that I have forgotten about the lot of you. Every. Single. One of you owes me your lives. Corypheus and his army would have overwhelmed and wiped you out to the last man if it weren't for me. I didn't have to save you. I could have fled, saved myself, but I stayed and destroyed him. I nearly died for you, yet you continue to treat me with distrust and suspicion, simply because you do not understand me. No matter how much I have helped, no matter what I have done to earn your trust, many you continue to treat me like an outsider, like a freak. Well, let me help you understand. I could kill every one of you on a whim. I could have done it a thousand times over with as little effort as it takes me to breath. I can barely stand on my feet and I could still kill you. You are all so far beneath me that I could crush the lot of you beneath the heel of my boot like an insect and not even notice the stain you left there." He spat into the snow "But none of you would be worth the effort."

Marcus turned back to Leliana and Cassandra. Cullen and Josephine had taken the forefront of the crowd, watching in absolute silence with the others. "The only reason I have put up with you people is because I hoped that someday, when this was all over, you might repay my service by helping me to find a way to return home. But it seems my service is unappreciated, being carted off to a quiet little corner where you could all forget about me for as long as I stayed quietly in bed." he shifted his gaze from left to right, making sure to meet the eyes of every person there. The Herald. The Advisors. The Inner Council. Mother Gisselle. Threnn the quartermaster, Seggrit the merchant, Herrit the blacksmith, Flissa the barmaid. Soldiers, mages, tradesmen, maids, cooks, tanners, seamstresses, healers, and Chantry Sisters alike. "Well, who would I be not to oblige?" The camp was silent but the crunch of snow beneath Marcus' boots. Even the wind had gone silent as he pushed through the crowd, who parted to allow him passage to his tent. Without so much as a sideways glance he tore open the flap covering the entrance and disappeared inside. 

He threw himself down onto his bed, staring up at the blank canvas of the ceiling. He took a deep breath and let it go through his nose slowly, watching as the hot breath turned to steam when it met the cold air before vanishing into nothing. Every part of him hurt. His mind was a pitiful bundle of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Rage, misery, pity... guilt.

A small chuckle came unbidden from somewhere deep in his chest. "I think I'm losing my mind." 


	30. Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very long, dialogue heavy chapter. No action whatsoever.

_"If I have to wait one more hour in this line, I think I might lose my mind." Serana sighed running her hands down her face. They had left the inn in Dragon Bridge at the crack of dawn to finish the final leg of the journey to Solitude and had run straight into a line of people stretching as far as the eye could see._

_Never in all his years in the Northernmost province had Marcus seen Solitude like this. Never had the city been so... alive, not even during annual Burning of King Olaf celebrations held by the Bard's College. Every dock in the vast harbor below the great stone arch that bore Solitude was filled with an assortment of every sort of ship and boat one could imagine. Even in the waking hours of dawn, there had been a constant stream of travelers seeking entry through the gates into the capital city of Skyrim. Merchants and traders from all across Northern Tamriel had traveled here in hopes of selling their wares to the gathering throngs of people seeking to attend the coronation of Skyrim's new High Queen. Progress into the city was painstakingly slow. Security at an event like this was paramount and the guards posted at the gate were meticulous with their inspections of the goods and people who sought entry into the city. By the time they had reached the gates, afternoon was beginning to transition into evening. The sky was shifting into brilliant shades of pink, orange, and red, and the faint glint of Skyrim's unique aurora was taking shape._

_Around a dozen armed guards in Legion uniforms stood before the gate, looking entirely worn out. One guard, bearing the rank insignia of a Praefect, was holding a notebook was scribbling something down with his pen when Marcus and Serana approached. He didn't bother to look up when he asked for their names._

_"Legate Marcus Duronius of the Fourth Legion." He barely contained his grin when the man snapped to attention so quickly that he nearly dropped the notepad._

_"My apologies, sir." the soldier said, saluting him as the other Legionnaires lept to their feet. "We were not given word that you were arriving today."_

_"Because I sent none." Marcus replied genially. "At ease soldier." He glanced around at the other soldiers who seemed slow to relax. "I take it that I am expected."_

_"Aye sir. The Jarl has commissioned several carriages to bring guests of importance to the Blue Palace. The stable boys will..." he frowned and leaned to the side to look around him. "I don't see any mounts. Did you leave them with Katla?"_

_"No." Serana said with a dry smile. "We walked here, all the way from Dawnstar."_

_"That's quite the journey to make by foot." The Praefect replied, his eyebrows raised in slight surprise and some confusion. "Hardly seems befitting of a man of your rank and status."_

_"I've always held to the belief that you never truly get to know and appreciate a country until you have traveled its breadth by foot." Marcus replied cheerily. "_

_"Yes, there's nothing to make you appreciate your travels like bloody blisters on the soles of your feet." Serana drawled sarcastically._

_"Blisters build character. Besides, at least we arrived with time to spare." Marcus replied then turned back to the soldier. "The coronation isn't for another three days, am I correct?"_

_"Yes sir."_

_"Thank you." Serana smiled, as she wrapped her arm around Marcus' and pulled him along. "Come. We're holding up the line and I think it will be good to give our weary legs a rest."_

_The carriage ride up to the Blue Palace across the great stone arch that Solitude sat upon was a surprisingly pleasant experience. Marcus hadn't realized the full extent of his fatigue from the past two weeks on the road until he let himself sink into those plush cushioned seats. It seemed every tavern, inn, and boarding house in the city was filled to capacity with travelers and boisterous conversation and laughter. The Marketplace Square below Solitude's great windmill was host to dozens of new Merchant's stalls and kiosks with many more being unpacked and set up by tradesmen eager to make a killing from the impending celebrations. Glassware and enchanted jewelry from High Rock, fine quality blades and armor from Hammerfell, wines and cheeses from Cyrodiil. . Patrols of Imperial Soldiers and Solitude's own contingent of guardsmen marched up and down the streets, quick to break up brawls and remove disruptive drunks from the public eye. It was as though a new life had taken breath in the city. The war was over, the dragon threat quelled. People could stop surviving and begin to live again. This coronation was more than just the passing of the torch of leadership. It was a return to stability that the province so desperately needed._

_"I remember Solitude when it was nothing more than a tiny fishing village at the mouth of the Karth River." Serana mused as she gazed out of the carriage's window. "Now it's the biggest city in Skyrim." she let out a small laugh "I don't think I've ever seen so many people in one place in all of my years. It's... strange, returning to the places I had visited before, seeing how much they have changed since my time. Everything I knew is so much different then it was before."_

_"Yes. Three thousand years tends to do that." He smiled "So how do they compare?"_

_"Hmmm. I suppose they both have their ups and downs. On one hand Skyrim isn't constantly at war with its neighbors anymore. On the other, there seems to be some new world threatening crisis every month or so."_

_Marcus laughed "Exhausting, isn't it?"_

_Serana chuckled, and turned away from the window. "Every muscle in my body aches. Everywhere we go we run into any number of monsters that want to eat us or bandits that want to kill and rob us. Our lives consist of delving into dark, dangerous, and disgusting ancient ruins in search of lost treasures we have no use for and I can't begin to count the number of near death experiences I have had in the past year." she reached her hand up to cup his cheek. "But despite all of that, it was worth it because I got to share in it with you."_

_"Sweet talker." Marcus snorted, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She smelled of soot, sweat and wood smoke from the camp fires they had shared on the road.  She wasn't weak willed woman terrified of  getting dirt stains on her dress or mussing up her perfectly styled hair. She was a woman of the North. Fierce, and brave, strong, and kind and beautiful. It was an absolute privilege to be able to share his life with her._

_Marcus watched as the carriage passed through the outer gateway to the wall surrounding the Blue Palace and into the main courtyard. The driver called out a command to the horses pulling it and it lurched to a halt. The driver dismounted, marched to Marcus' side of the coach and pulled the door open for him, bowing deeply as he did. Marcus stepped out and turned to offer Serana his hand to help her down. He turned back to the coach driver, thanked him and handed him some Septims for his time. The driver smiled, bowed again, and stepped around back of the carriage to grab their belongings._

_The twin doors to the palace itself were thrown open and a Breton man with graying hair in servant's clothes whom Marcus recognized from his previous visits to Solitude strolled out with a broad smile crossing his face. "Thane Duronius! Welcome back to Solitude. It's wonderful to see you in good health. I trust your journey wasn't too troublesome?"_

_"Tiring, but otherwise uneventful. Thank you."_

_"I am glad to hear it." he gave a sharp whistle and two boys in similar uniforms, but younger rushed out to grab their travel bags. "Her grace has already been alerted to your arrival and apologizes for not being here to meet you in person. She has instructed us to take you and the lady to your quarters in the guest wing. The room has been cleaned thoroughly and the bed given fresh sheets and blankets." he paused before adding "And the palace staff will see to it that all of your needs are met during your stay with us."_

_"You have our gratitude." Marcus said, giving a sideways glance at the servant boys struggling with their traveling packs. He supposed it was fortunate he still wore his armor, otherwise they would never have gotten the bags up off the ground._

_"This city and its people owe you a great deal my lord." the head servant replied "It's the least we can do to make sure your time here is comfortable. Now, if you will follow me, I will show you where you are to your room." he paused and looked over at Serana before turning back to Marcus "I'm sorry if it is intrusive to ask, but the room only has a single bed, and it was the only chamber prepared for you... is that-?"_

_"No, no. It's fine."_

_"Very well. Come with me."_

_They followed the head servant down narrow hallways and through winding corridors. It seemed to entire palace was full to the bursting with people. A number of worn out looking serving staff ducked in and out of the countless rooms they passed in the palace's extensive guest wing bringing in fresh linens or removing unclean. Sweeping, dusting, brushing, washing every little thing. They nearly collided with one servant girl coming round a corner with a stack of laundry so tall she couldn't see over it. The young woman mumble a swift apology before ducking around them and continuing on with her duties._

_"It seems her Grace has been keeping you busy." Marcus said, stepping to the side to let another servant rushing down the hall with a broom and dustpan pass._

_"Aye" the head servant replied with a small, half-hearted chuckle. "Everything needs to be in pristine condition for the coronation in three days. Her top concern is the happiness of her guests, naturally. Many of the most important people in the Empire are expected to be in attendance, so Jarl Elisif can't afford to cut corners. Not that she ever has before. Though thankfully she had the foresight to hire on extra staff temporarily until this business is said and done with, and things can return to normal."_

_"Who has arrived in the city ahead of us?"_

_"Let's see." he hummed thoughtfully, trying to remember. "The two of you are some of the last of Jarl Elisif's guests to arrive in the capital. The Jarls of the other eight Holds and their entourages have all arrived some days ago. There is also the Thalmor Ambassador, Lady Elenwen. The King of Daggerfall is here as well, as is the Count of Bruma, whom I believe is Elisif's cousin. Other than them, there are a number of powerful Thanes and other influential individuals have come from around the province."_

_"That's quite the guest list." Marcus replied. "I imagine it can't be easy keeping up with all the demands they must give you."_

_"It certainly is a table full of duties, my Lord." he sighed "It makes me thankful for Jarl Elisif having the foresight to hire extra help until this lot returns to their homes."_

_Marcus had noticed the absence of almost anybody other than guards and servants in the corridors of the guest wing and couldn't help but inquire. "Where are the other guests?"_

_"Jarl Elisif is meeting with the other Jarls in her private solar at the moment."  the servant replied "Others have already retired for the night while some have left the palace for an evening on the town before dinner which isn't for another two hours."_

_They turned another corner and came to an abrupt stop as they reached their destination. The servant pulled a set of keys from his belt, fumbled for a moment as he searched for the correct one, then unlocked the door and held it for them as they passed through. "And here is where you will be staying. I hope that the accommodations are to your liking, and if you have any concerns or requests, do not hesitate to bring them to our staff." The room was surprisingly spacious and lusciously furnished with an enormous curtained, four poster bed, spotless carpeting, a spacious closet and an assortment of armoires, dressers and chests for storage. A tall mirror sat against the wall opposite of the door as well as a vanity for makeup and powder, a washbin for a quick cleanup and a divider for privacy while changing. From the ceiling hung an iron chandelier ringed by half a dozen lit candles, bathing the room in a warm glow._

_"This will do nicely, thank you." Marcus smiled, ushering Serana into the room before he entered the room, followed closely behind by the servants. The two boys carrying their traveling packs dropped them off at the foot of the bed before they bowed and took their leave._

_"I am pleased to hear it my lord. I have no doubt that you will enjoy the reprieve from your travels. If it would suit you, I can have a bath drawn for you while you settle in to your new accommodations."_

_"That sounds wonderful." Serana sighed "Gods know we could both use one after those weeks on the road."_

_"Very good my lady. I will see to it that your request is met as soon as possible. If you wish to change into something cleaner, the bureaus have been stocked with a variety of outfits for both lords and ladies. I am certain you will be able to find something to your tastes. And one last thing..." He took their room key off of the keyring. "This will get you in and out of your room. While we have spares, do try not to lose it during your stay with us."_

_"Thank you." Marcus said, and he took the key from him. With that he bowed and departed down the hallway. Marcus closed the door behind him and sighed, leaning his full weight against the solid polished wooden frame. He watched with unbreakable interest as Serana removed her traveling clothes, piece by piece until she was left in nothing but a shift that ended at her thighs, and her smallclothes. She stopped in front of the vanity to scrutinize herself in the mirror._

_"Admiring your girlish figure?" Marcus asked with a smirk._

_"Still trying to get used to seeing my own reflection, actually." she replied spinning slowly and swaying her lofty hips in a manner that seemed aimed more to his benefit than her own. She could be an incorrigible tease when she had the mind to be and he didn't mind in the slightest._

_"Can you help me with this my love?" he asked pushing himself up and gesturing to the full suit of steel plate he still wore over chainmail and boiled leather. Serana smiled and pushed herself up onto the bed, patting the space in front of her for him to take a seat. He unbuckled his sword belt and obliged, sinking deeply into the soft feather mattress, and she quickly set to work undoing the bindings that held the steel plate to his body._

_"I honestly cannot thank you enough for coming with me to this... thing." Marcus started, as he stretched his left arm out for Serana to remove his pauldrons. "I know it can be uncomfortable, being forced to attend something where you don't know anybody, particularly when those strangers are this lot."_

_She chuckled in response "I'm used to it. Compared to the 'courtly intrigue' where I came from these people are harmless, believe me. Besides, judging by the way you speak of them somebody needs to be here to keep you in line to prevent some sort of political incident."_

_"True enough. If I'm going to be honest, not everybody in Skyrim is overly fond of me either. You never know when somebody might try something."_

_"Aww. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe from all the big mean Jarls, my love."_

_"It puts my mind at ease to hear it." he replied with a sly grin"So it's agreed. For the duration of the festivities you will taste everything I'm about to eat first."_

_Serana snorted "I'm not getting poisoned for you."_

_"But that's what you do for the people you love. You make sacrifices."_

_"Well, I'm being selective with the sacrifices that decide to make."_

_Marcus sighed "Fine. I guess I'll just starve."_

_"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"_

_He shrugged as she began to work on his breastplate "Maybe a little."  he spread his arms when she finished undoing the ties on the side and let her slide it up and over his head. "There's still the matter of your back story. Everybody will want to know who you are."_

_"We've already been over this. I'm from some family nobody's heard of from some town nobody's heard of. We met when we both joined the Dawnguard. If they start asking too many questions, be deflective, but subtle. Ask about them instead."_

_"Nords love nothing more than to talk about themselves. It shouldn't be too hard to turn the focus of the conversation back on them." He started to work his boots off._

_Serana cleared her throat "Are you forgetting that I'm a Nord too?"_

_"No, no!" Marcus sputtered, "Of course not. It's just that... you're not very... Nordy."_

_"Nordy?" he could practically feel the skeptical raised eyebrow._

_"Yeah. Most Nords prefer hitting things with a large axe to casting spells. Nord mages are something of a rarity incase you hadn't noticed."_

_"So because I don't swing an axe in battle like a barbarian, I'm not really a Nord?"_

_"I'm not saying you aren't a Nord, I'm saying you aren't like most of the Nords I've met."_

_"How so?"_

_"Umm, well, you're not... you..." he paused "You know what? I think I'll just stop myself right there before I dig myself into a hole."_

_"Good idea." she replied coolly "Stand up so I can get the chainmail off."_

_He struggled to push himself up off the impractically soft bed, seeming to only sink deeper in with every shift of his weight. Serana seemed content to just sit back and watch the sad show with a bemused smirk crossing her lips._

_"Need a hand?"_

_"No. I just need to-" he rocked back and forth, then lunged forward, kicking his legs out, freeing him from his fluffy prison. He stumbled forwards, nearly losing his balance before regaining his footing. "See? Nothing I couldn't handle." he laughed uncomfortably._

_"Alright, good job, now come here."_

_He went back to the bed and raised his arms above his head to let Serana pull the chainmail armor up and over his head and let it drop haphazardly onto the floor with the rest of his armor. Marcus let out a long sigh of relief to have the literal weight lifted from his shoulders. The armor was crafted with the wearer's relative comfort in mind, but wearing it day after day for weeks tended to take its toll. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up his muscles and relieve the aching pain._

_"I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to that bath." Marcus said, pulling off the leather covering he wore beneath his boots to give his toes some air. He then unbuckled his gambeson and tossed it aside with the rest of his discarded armor. He spun around and fell backwards onto the plush feather stuffed mattress, allowing himself to sink back in and undoing completely the effort he had made to get out just a minute ago. Serana eased herself off the bed with far more grace than he had managed and padded over to the wardrobe that sat on the other side of the room, then pulled open the doors and took a moment to rummage through the selection of outfits the palace had made available for them._

_"Maybe you'll finally wash the stench of swamp out of your hair." Serana laughed, as she pulled a dress out of the wardrobe, walked over to the mirror and held it against herself. It was far too small to have a hope of fitting her. Even for by Nord standards, Serana was a tall woman, nearly matching Marcus in height._

_"You don't exactly smell like a mountain flower yourself."_

_Serana sighed and walked back to to wardrobe, where she returned the dress to where she found it and pulled out another."Fair enough." She turned her attention back to the wardrobe and found a third dress, she took a moment to compare the two before she turned back to Marcus. "Which do you think I should wear to dinner?"_

_Marcus opened an eye just a crack to glance in her direction. "Try blue one. White isn't really your color."_

_Serana paused for a moment, pondering the choice before she nodded in agreement. She hung the white dress back up in the wardrobe before disappearing behind the privacy divider with the blue. After a moment she tossed her tunic over the top of the divider, followed quickly by her breastband. This piqued his interest, and he sat up in bed, and watched her silhouette through the thin divider. "It's strange that they would have clothing ready for us when we arrived." Serana said, as Marcus watched her step into the blue dress._

_"I made sure to tell them we had all of nothing for formal wear when I sent the letter back with the courier." Marcus replied "They must have placed an order with the Radiant Raiment to have a selection ready for our arrival."_

_"A lot of trouble for two guests, don't you think?" Serana replied, pulling the bodice up to her chest._

_"Not as much as you might think, and besides, I saved the city from a vengeful, undead necromancer queen. A few dresses and a suit jacket are hardly too much to ask for."_

_She chuckled "It's good to see that your heroics have humbled your pride."_

_"Doesn't make it any less true." Marcus replied._

_"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean you need to constantly bring it up." She stepped back around the divider for Marcus to see and what he saw before him left him brought a broad smile to his lips. The dress looked absolutely perfect on her. The soft, sky-blue velvet hung off her shoulders, with elongated sleeves running down to her wrists. The neckline was high, showing only her neck and collar. The bodice sat snug against her form, accentuating the curve of her waist and the shape of her bust. An underbust corset that she had left unlaced sat comfortably around her middle. The dress seemed to compliment her natural beauty, creating an aura of mystique and curiosity, while maintaining its modesty in a way that was difficult for him to put to words. She was a work of art. Flawless in every way imaginable. She twirled for him, skirts swirling about her stocking clad legs."So, what do you think?"_

_"I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before."_

_"They aren't exactly practical for our lifestyle, you know, and that doesn't really answer my question" Serana laughed "I know, it still needs some work, I'll do up my hair, and maybe some jewelry couldn't hurt-"_

_Marcus placed his hands against her cheek and pulled her lips to his. She let out a surprised squeak into his mouth, her body tensed up, but she quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to snake around his back to pull him flush against her. She smelled terrible, like sweat and tepid swamp water, but Marcus couldn't care in the slightest. When they finally broke apart, Serana took a step back laughed breathlessly. "I take it you like the dress."_

_Marcus shook his head, returning to smile "My love, you could be wearing nothing but a burlap sack and still reduce Dibella herself to tears of envy. You will be the talk of the High Queen's court for months to come."_

_She blushed visibly, ducking her head in a futile attempt to hide it from him. "You're exaggerating. My hair's a mess, I'm covered in dirt, and I reek of marsh-"_

_He cupped her chin and pulled her gaze up to meet his. "I would never lie to you."_

_He absolutely cherished when he was able to bring a genuine smile to her face, a smile that seemed to make the whole world just a little bit brighter, even though her cheeks were redder than ever. She glanced again at the mirror and gave a small laugh "Well, I guess I should change out of this thing before the stench of swamp sinks into the fabric." She turned and started off back toward the divider, and he noticed a sway to her hips that hadn't been there before, as well as the enticing manner in which the skirts seemed to hug her rear end. Definitely the better choice._

_As she was getting changed into something more casual there was a knock on the door. Marcus threw on a shirt and pulled the door open. A servant boy, one of the ones who had carried their bags up to the room. "Pardon me, my lord, but I was sent to..." he trailed off and Marcus followed his gaze to Serana's nude silhouette through the divide as she folded the dress over the top. When the boy had begun to stare Marcus cleared his throat, which seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he'd lost himself in. He couldn't really blame the kid for his interest, Serana just had that effect on people, and it was a point of pride for Marcus, but this was well past the point of appropriate._

_"You were saying?"_

_His face went as red as blood from embarrassment "I was sent to tell you that the bath you requested is ready, my lord."_

_"Thank you. If you would be so kind to wait, we'll only be a moment."_

_"Of course, Thane Duronius."  he bowed and stepped back from the door, allowing Marcus to close it. He turned_ _from the door, and chuckled to himself._

_"What's so funny?" Serana asked, as she stepped back around the divide._

_"It seems you already have an admirer."_

_"Oh? Is he handsome?" she teased, brushing her hair away from her eyes._

_"Perhaps a bit young for your tastes."_

_"That's a shame. I was hoping to find a rebound if things don't work out between us."_

_Marcus snorted "You are far too hopelessly in love with me to do such a thing."_

_She waltzed over to him and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "Is that so?"_

_"It is, and I would be more than happy to remind you why."_

_"If you shaved off that matted mess on your face I would be happy to oblige you."_

"Depriving a man of his needs to get what you want?" Marcus smirked "How deviously manipulative of you." 

"A lady does what she must." Serana replied coolly as she walked over to the door and placed a hand on the handle. "Shall we?"

_The bathing room wasn't far, down a few halls, around some corners and through a couple doors. The room, wasn't really a room, but several, each with its own spacious brass tub. The room was filled with a haze of steam, and it smelled powerfully of sweet scented oils and soaps. A few serving girls hurried by them, carrying bundles of used towels for the laundrymen to wash. Against the far wall was an immense cauldron filled with water over a roaring fire. Frequently, the serving girls would drop buckets into the cauldron to get water for the tubs. An irritable middle aged Nord woman with ragged blonde hair noticed their presence and made for them._

_"You the pair we're expecting?" She looked them bot up and down, her expression fixed into a scowl as she asked, even though the answer to that question should have been obvious._

_"Yes, we are."_

_She grunted disinterestedly, then looked at the serving boy who had brought them there. Her eyes quickly narrowed and her scowl deepened. "What in Oblivion are you just standing there for? Don't you have some duties to attend to? Shoo!" The boy's face went white and he turned on his heel, leaving the bathroom and disappearing down the hall without a word. The woman shook her head and waved her hand for them to follow. "Over here." She led them to the two rooms opposite of each other against the far wall, which Marcus correctly assumed were there's, though he was more than a little disappointed that they would be bathing separately._

_"These tubs have been reserved for you. If you need anything, just shout and one of these useless louts will come." she gestured dismissively towards the attendants, who seemed to pay her no mind, and continued on with their duties. Without another word, she spun with a flourish and marched back down the room, stopping only to bark orders to one of the women, and scold another of one room's apparent lack of towels. Grumbling to herself about the bath oils, she stormed out of the room. Serana gave Marcus a discomforted look, before one of the women ushered her into her private room._

_Another did the same with Marcus, and gave him a brief rundown of everything inside. It was small, and ergonomic, no larger than it needed to be with a large brass tub in the middle and sets of shelves on the left and right walls, one baring bottles of soaps and oils, and scrubbing brushes, and the other a neatly folded stack of pristine white towels. On the far wall were several silver robes of various sizes hanging from hooks nailed into the stone that looked to be made of silk at first glance as well as a tall mirror. Steam rose from the water in the tub, escaping the small enclosure through several vents built into the walls._

_"Leave your clothes when you are finished, and we will make sure that they are washed for you and returned to your room. Will you be needing anything else, my lord?" The woman asked, brushing off her apron and clasping her hands together in front of her._

_"Something to shave with would be appreciated. Can't go to see the Jarl looking like a homeless barbarian." Marcus joked, and gave her a warm smile_

_"Of course my lord. I will be back in but a moment." She returned the smile and bowed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Marcus disrobed, grabbed on of the scrubbing brushes and a bottle of shampoo off the shelf, and eased himself into the not quite scalding water. It was one of the greatest sensations he had ever felt. He sighed contentedly as the knots in his shoulders and legs seemed to waste away. The aching muscles in his calves and lower back were soothed into blissful silence. He sat there, sinking up to his nose, and simply enjoying the sensation of the steaming water surrounding him. It reminded him of the volcanic hot springs outside of Windhelm, but without the overbearing stench of sulfur and brimstone. It had been far too long since he had partook in a descent bath that wasn't in a river or in cold, dirty water of some tavern washroom. While he enjoyed the life of the wanderer, there were a few creature comforts that he missed, like hot baths, a decent meal or a warm bed. There was nothing wrong with allowing himself to indulge from time to time._

_He had finished washing his hair out, and was working furiously with the brush in a seemingly vain attempt to scrub the dirt out of his pores when there was a knock on the door. He glanced up and said "Come in." The woman who had gone to get his shaving supplies was back with a razor and shaving foam. Though he was mostly hidden from view by the tub, she still blushed and averted her eyes respectfully, and placed what she carried onto a stool next to the door._

_Keeping her gaze low, she asked "Will that be all?"_

_"Yes, thank you."_

_When he was finished bathing, he hopped out and dried himself off before trimming his beard in front of the mirror. Despite Serana's protests during the voyage, he wasn't quite ready to part with it, though he wasn't blind to the fact that it was an overgrown mess. It was a beard that a Nord would have been proud of, but he wasn't a Nord and some concessions had to be made for his lady love. Satisfied that he was at least adequately presentable, he threw on one of the robes and left the shaving kit and dirty clothes by the door like the woman had asked. He left the bathroom, and found a spot on a bench against the wall to sit and wait for Serana to finish with hers. When she finally emerged, looking as beautiful and fresh as an early spring morning, and wearing a robe not dissimilar to his, she looked him up and down with a slight frown._

_"I see you kept the beard."_

_"I like the beard." Marcus replied "Besides, it's not as bad as it was before."_

_"No, I suppose it isn't." She smiled and cupped his cheek, running her thumb over the short dark hair. "I suppose that will have to do. Come along darling, we still need to find you something to wear."_

_Back in the room Marcus searched through the armoire for suitable attire. Thankfully, Nords were large, and their choice of fashion was fairly subdued. Their finer clothes were comfortable, yet held their own sort of elegant style that was appropriate for higher courts. He found a blue suede suit jacket worn over a white button up tunic. that matched well with the dress Serana had picked out and a pair of dark grey cloth trousers with a broad leather belt worn around his waist. On his feet he wore treated hide boots that reached halfway up his calves. His hair was neatly combed, being too short to be braided or tied up. When he stepped back around the privacy screen, Serana looked up from her seat at the vanity where she had been brushing her hair. Immediately her face lit up with the glow of her smile. Still wearing the robe from the bathroom, she stood up and padded over to him, lifting her hands to fix the collar of his tunic._

_"I must admit, you don't look half bad when you actually put some effort into it." She teased before she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. Her breath was warm and her hair smelled of lavender and mountain flowers. Gods above, she was so beautiful._

_"Flatterer." Marcus chuckled when she pulled away with her hands still resting on his shoulders._

_"Well, I suppose it's my turn then." she kissed him again, briefly and stepped around him, untying the robe and letting it fall from her shoulders with a devious smirk over her shoulder before she disappeared behind the screen. A flush crept up the back of his neck and the suit jacket suddenly felt insufferably constricting and a familiar ache began to surface as he watched her bare form disappear from view, helpless in his inability to take advantage of situation. It was a game they liked to play. She was toying with him, trying to break him, make him submit, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction, and he knew exactly how to defuse her._

_"I was thinking about what we should do while we were up here." he said as he sat down on the bed._

_"Were you?" Serana replied, pulling the dress down off of the privacy screen._

_"Yes. It's not very often that we find ourselves in this part of the province."  A smirk crossed his lips "Since we're here now I thought it might be a good idea to pay a visit to your mother."_

_He watched her go rigid, standing perfectly still, then thrust her head around the edge of the screen to glare at him. "Are you out of your mind?"_

_"What?" the smile growing larger "She's the only family you have left, and it's been a long time since you last saw her."_

_"For a very good reason." she glowered at him._

_"Oh, I know. You've gone through a great many changes in your life, but don't you want the love and support of your dear mother?"_

_"Cut the act." she demanded, disappearing behind the divider to continue donning her dress "You know EXACTLY how that conversation would go when her MORTAL daughter showed up out of the blue with her MORTAL lover. I would never hear the end of how I 'squandered my gift for a man' and am now 'no different than the rest of the sheep in the flock', or something like that . That is not something I have ANY desire to put up with."_

_"Look, you're going to have to tell her eventually." Marcus replied with a shrug._

_"Not if I have anything to say about it."_

_"Better to get it over with now..."_

_"No."_

_He sighed outwardly, but smiled to himself. "Suit yourself."_

_"Good." They were silent for a few minutes after that. Marcus leaned back onto the bed to stare up at the chandelier while Serana continued to change. Soon she reemerged, holding the corset to her body and returned to the vanity to work on her hair. "Could you help me with this." She gestured towards her back with her thumb, indicating the lace that held the thing together._

_"Of course dear." Marcus smiled and eased himself off the bed, he was getting better at that, and walked around behind her. "Tell me if it's too tight."_

_"It's a corset my love." she chuckled "It's supposed to be tight."_

_"I know, but I don't need you passing out from lack of air at the dinner table." He began to lace it together while Serana pulled her long hair back away from her face and began to tie it together into a tight bun, leaving two tendrils to hug the soft outline of her face._

_"How's that?" Marcus asked when he finished tying the corset's laces._

_"It feels good. I can still breath, which is the important part. Thank you for the help."_

_"Anytime sweetheart." he said, laying a hand against her bare shoulder. When she tried to stand, he held her in place. "Stay here, I have a surprise for you."_

_He went to his pack which sat at the foot of the bed and began to dig through his belongings, searching for it. When he found what he was looking for, he hid it behind his back. "Close your eyes." When she complied, he looped it around her neck and clasped it at the end. "Okay, open them."_

_Her gasp of surprise and the smile she gave him brought joy to his heart. Serana loved jewelry, and when on rare occasions they stopped by one of the major cities for supplies, would always spend an inordinate amount of time at the jewelers stalls, always looking and touching, but never buying anything. Despite the fact that money was never an issue, she always said that there was something more important to spend it on, and that she shouldn't indulge herself in useless trinkets. She had been all but smitten with a polished silver medallion with an emerald gemstone at Fralia Greay-Mane's stall in Whiterun. The matriarch of the Gray-Mane family spent her days selling trinkets forged by her husband, the master smith Eorlund in his spare time when he wasn't preoccupied arming the Companions. Each one was a handcrafted masterpiece that held true to Nordic customs and style. This one was a beauty, even among all the rest of Eorlund's works. When she'd pulled herself away from Fralia's stall to buy vegetables from Carlotta on the opposite side of the market, Marcus had quickly slipped Fralia a bag of septims and stuffed the amulet in his pocket before Serana could see. Fralia had given him a knowing smile before quickly turning her attention to the next customer. He had wanted to wait for the opportune moment to surprise her with the gift, so he held onto it carefully. Keeping it hidden was the tricky part. When two people live on the road together, keeping a secret was all but impossible. He ended up keeping it in a pair of dirty smallclothes that not even she would touch. He'd be sure to leave that part out of the story._

_"I can't believe you bought this for me." she mused, running her fingers along the rim of the emerald. The smile she wore was contagious, and he couldn't help but return it. "How much did this cost you?"_

_"No cost is too high if paying it means I can bring that smile to your face." he replied suavely._

_Serana snorted and rolled her eyes. "That's not an answer. You really shouldn't have."_

_Marcus shrugged "Gold really isn't a problem, but if you don't like it, I can always return it to Fralia next time we stop by Whiterun."_

_"Very funny." she faked a laugh and stood up and wrapped him up in an embrace. Resting her head against his chest, she mumbled into his shoulder. "I love it. Thank you."_

_"That's all I wanted to hear."  he chuckled, holding her close and planting a kiss on top of her head, though he was careful not to ruin her hair. "You have never been more beautiful."_

_She chuckled "That's because I'm usually covered in blood and filth, thanks to you."_

_"What can I say? Trouble seems to find me wherever I go."_

_"Don't pretend you don't go looking for it."_

_"Alright, alright. A little bit of A, and a little bit of B."_

_There was another knock on the door. Marcus had little doubt it was someone sent to collect them for dinner. When he opened it, he was greeted by the same Breton servant who had shown them to their rooms when they had arrived. The man smiled and said "You are looking well refreshed, my lord. Are you ready to depart? The Jarl is expecting you."_

_"Yes, my good sir. Lead the way." He held the door for Serana and followed the two down the hall, though not the way they had come. Rather than heading towards the Great Hall near the main entrance to the Blue Palace, they traversed deeper into the building towards the residential quarters. He knew Jarl Elisif had a private dining room for herself and for guests of importance. He had dined with her there several times before. Once after the war had ended, and another when he had been named Thane of the city. It wasn't large enough to seat everybody on the Jarl's guest list, so this mus have been for the most important political players. He wasn't sure if he should feel honored or wary._

_They turned a corner and nearly walked straight into a familiar, if most unwelcome Altmer. "A thousand pardons, Madam Ambassador." the servant bowed deeply, taking a step back from the Mer as a sign of respect. "I did not see you coming."_

_"Then you should be more observant in the future." she replied with a cold indifference, her gaze barely flickering over the man, then coming to rest on Marcus. He saw a brief flash of something unreadable cross her rigid golden features before a smile as war as that of a serpent crossed her lips. She wore the black robed uniform of the Thalmor Justicars with no additional makeup or jewelry. She was still as unwavering and haughty as ever, standing taller even than many of the Nords. An imposing and intimidating stature that she used to its full effect._

_"Ah, Lord Duronius."_

_"Ambassador Elenwen."_

_"I must say I am surprised to see you here. Last I heard, you had forsaken civilization to live as a barbarian wandering the wilderness."_

_"What can I say? I missed the people." Marcus returned the smile, though his eyes remained cold and focused. "I see you made it in time for the celebrations. Work at the Embassy has been keeping you busy; though I imagine it's been some time since you threw any more of those little soirees, what, with the last on turning into such an embarrassment for the Dominion." he tutted and shook his head. "Thankfully, the Legion takes matters of security very seriously, I do believe the Coronation will go off without a hitch."_

_The First Ambassador's face remained entirely impassive, refusing to show any slip in composure and self-control. "Yes, a rather unfortunate incident. Those responsible for such a lapse in security have been properly chastised and its like shall not be repeated. But that is enough about me. I am most curious as to why you have decided to stay in this..." she struggled to contain her disgust with the province "In Skyrim. I would have thought you would have returned to Chorrol by now, what with the Dragon Crisis ended, and the war against the heretics won. Surely you desire to reconnect with your sister after all these years."_

_Marcus' smile did not falter at the unexpected mention of his family. "Certainly, but I must go where I am needed, and as long as threats to peace remain, there is still work to be done here."_

_"Indeed." she took a breath to continue, but Marcus quickly cut her off._

_"Well, it was lovely to get a chance to catch up with you, Madam Ambassador, but I am afraid I must take my leave. Jarl Elisif is expecting me at dinner, and I am positively famished."_

_Following the Breton servant, who bowed to the Ambassador one more time for good measure, they continued on their way. Marcus kept back a few extra paces so that he and Serana could speak without the other man overhearing._

_"What was that all about?" Serana asked "I have seen warmer conversations in my father's court."_

_"That is simply Ambassador Elenwen for you." Marcus replied "She hates being sent to this freezing backwater province so far from Alinor, and it has turned her into a miserable, vindictive and bitter woman. Or, perhaps she has always been like that."_

_"She seemed to particularly hate you though."_

_"Well that's a long story. A few years ago, before we met, there was an incident at the Thalmor Embassy during one of Elenwen's parties. An infiltrator using an assumed name somehow managed to get an invitation to the party and slip away from the other guests. A dozen guards and the Third Ambassador were slain and several sensitive documents were stolen. Documents which somehow ended up in the hands of General Tullius and the Imperial Legion."_

_"And you had nothing to do with this 'incident'?" Serana asked with a raised eyebrow._

_"Gods no! Of course not." Marcus pretended to be taken aback at the accusation. "Do I seem like the sort of man who has the subtlety, wit, and composure to be spy?"_

_"No on all accounts." she giggled, taking his arm in hers and leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. "You aren't worried, are you? About what she said about your sister in Chorrol?"_

_"No. If the Thalmor were going to hurt my sister, they would have done it long ago. She likes to think that the threat of harm will keep me in check."  he smiled "Elenwen also knows that if any harm did come to Cornelia she would be the first to suffer for it. Elenwen is no fool. She knows that if you prod the dragon, you are going to be burned."_


	31. The Lone Survivor

Raleigh Samson, disillusioned Knight of the order since childhood, disgraced former servant of the Chantry, Knight Commander and General of the New Templar Order, reforged in purpose and vision in service to the Elder One and his ascension to godhood. The lone island of life in a sea of death. His order was dead, wiped from the face of the world by a masked warrior in armor as black as night. It wasn't supposed to end this way. The plan he and the Elder One had devised was as simple as it came. They would force march through Ferelden from Therinfall Redoubt. Brave the passes in the Frostback Mountains until they reached Haven where they would split their forces to attack the small settlement from three different directions, overwhelming the meager defenses with overwhelming numbers and force. From there, the Elder One would reclaim his Mark from the false Herald and his ascension would be ensured. Samson knew from his years in the Order that no battleplan survived first contact with the enemy. Nothing was ever as simple as the ideal.

The first complication had arisen when the Inquisition trebuchet had brought a mountain down upon them. Hundreds had been killed by the falling snow and rocks and the assault had ground to a stand-still. The Elder One had been enraged by the setback. He unleashed his Archdemon upon the Inquisition, shattering its defenses and routing its forces back into the settlement's Chantry. It was at that point in the night when Samson realized he should have known something was wrong. Only the warrior in black emerged from the building to stand against his army. His forward scouts reported back to him that the rest were fleeing into the mountains with the masked man performing a rear guard action to buy them time to make their escape and lose them in the Frostbacks. No single warrior should have been able to last even a few minutes against an army of super human Templars. But not only did he survive, he cut a bloody swath through the Elder One's army, killing dozens, perhaps even hundreds single handedly. There smites had no effect on him as he shouted his army to pieces with unknown magics. The Archdemon had been neutralized through some unknown, foul magic power. The beast had gone feral, attacking any living thing nearby before disappearing over the mountains. Samson had no choice but to commit the full extent of his forces to the fight, to eliminate him. If they delayed any longer, the false Herald would slip through their fingers, and blame for this failure would be placed upon him. Samson could not allow that Magister bitch Calpernia the chance she craved to supplant him as the right hand of Corypheus.

In his eagerness to achieve complete victory, he unwittingly walked into the masked warrior's trap. Once the entirety of the Red Templar host had filled the valley, he had summoned an immense storm of near unimaginable fury. Within minutes they had been slaughtered nearly to a man by endless lightning strikes. In the chaos the warrior had disappeared. Samson had not escaped unscathed. A bolt of lighting had struck him in the back, knocking him unconscious. The only thing that had saved him was the armor Maddox had forged for him. It had prevented the damage from being fatal, but the lightning strike had obliterated it, fusing the twisted and scorched metal to his skin. Had the Red Lyrium not dulled his nerves, the pain alone would have sent him into shock, and very likely have killed him. 

When he had awoken, the sole living being among the dead, he had crawled his way through the blood soaked snow to the closest structure. One of the huts that had belonged to the former residents of this miserable little village. The door had been broken down, and the scorch marks from fire were apparent all along the walls. At some point in the night part of the thatch roof had collapsed and a sheet of snow had covered the wooden floor. It provided some shelter from the elements, though not much. The missing door and hole in the roof ensured that some of the biting wind got through to him. All he could do was huddle in a corner to keep himself as war as he possibly could and hope that help would arrive. But as the days passed by and the weather took a turn for the colder with the imminent onset of winter, it became increasingly obvious that no friendly aid was to come. If he could make it back to the Templar camp he could get some medicine to help with his wounds, but that journey would be impossible for a man barely able to stand on his own feet. Death was coming for him. He could feel his body growing weaker and weaker, his spirit fading with the wind. He was struck constantly with bouts of vicious coughing that left the floor stained with crimson. Whether it was blood or the red lyrium, Samson did not need to know. It seemed as though Calpernia was going to get her desire in he end after all. His Red Templars were finished. There were too few left to form the army that Corypheus needed to enact his plans. The survivors, those who had been given separate assignments before the battle, would be nothing but a liability now. The Elder One would abandon them as the Chantry had abandoned them once their use had run its course. 

Fury burned through his veins. An undying rage that had consumed him since he had been thrown from the order and had only grown with each passing day. He loathed the Chantry for what it had done to his brothers and sisters. Despised it for using them, forcing the Lyrium addiction on them and allowing it to take their minds and bodies, then to throw them into the streets once the damage had rendered them unable to serve. He hated the masked warrior for destroying everything he had built with such contemptuous ease. Most of all he deplored Corypheus. For his lies and false promises, and for abandoning his Templars in their time of need. He had decided then that he would survive this, if for no reason other than sheer spite. He needed more of the Red. It would give him the strength he needed to make it out of the valley. Luckily for him, there was an abundance of it all around them. 

The thought of looting the corpses of his fallen comrades sickened him. It was disrespectful and insulting to the sacrifices the had made, but he had no other choice, and he knew they would understand. Carrion had stayed far away from the battlefield, no wolves or birds had savaged the dead for an easy meal, kept at a distance by the poison they sensed that had once flowed through the Templars' veins. The only beings stupid enough to willingly ingest the blighted lyrium were human. Somehow he managed to struggle to his feet and make his way back out into the cold. The first body was a mere few dozen feet from the hut where he had holed up in. The dead Templar's face was concealed behind his helmet, and Samson was grateful for that mercy. He turned the soldier over and started rifling through the cloak he wore, searching for the vial of red lyrium he so desperately needed. He knew that some of his men carried them into battle for the extra boost in strength it gave them to overpower their enemies in battle. The search bore no fruits. The vials the man had kept on him in life were empty, likely used in his desperate and ultimately futile attempt to slay the masked warrior. 

Samson had no choice but to move on. He trudged through the field of dead, taking every filled vial he could find, drinking some for immediate strength, but keeping most for later use. The Red Lyrium was killing him. It would have killed them all eventually, but the power it granted was a worthy trade off. It would postpone death for the time being. He needed to find new shelter while he could as well. The weather continued to worsen and he would not be able to regain his strength when he spent his nights struggling to avoid hypothermia. While he was up and moving, he decided to move into the village Chantry. While the irony of seeking shelter with the symbol of the very organization he detested was not lost on him, the Chantry was the only building in the village that remained in decent condition. As the sun began to set, he pushed open the doors and made his way into the main hall and closed the doors behind him. 

The Inquisition had left in a hurry, but the building had been thoroughly ransacked. Nothing of any sort of value had been left behind, not even the statues of Andraste that were small enough to be carried out. Offerings of food and gold were gone. Weapons had been taken. In the small room at the far end of the building was a large lone table. It must have been where the false Herald and her cohorts had unwittingly schemed to undo the Elder One's work. Off to the side of the building's main hall, close to the room with the table was an administrative office with a desk and a fluffy, comfortable looking chair that seemed out of place in the Chantry. Against one of the walls of the office was a wooden bench where whomever sat at the desk would receive visitors. Samson decided to take a few hours to rest there. The bench was far from comfortable, but his life as a Templar had never been so, and it still beat laying on the snow covered floor of the ruined hut. It was warmer too. Not much, but still... Just a few hours rest and he would...

He awoke with a violent start. A sheen of freezing sweat covered his body from head to toe and his hands shook vigorously. Another nightmare. The Red Lyrium gave him terrible dreams, disturbing and nonsensical. Impossible to interpret in any way other than that they scared the hell out of him. There was always a faint whispering in the background of the menagerie of horror that plagued his sleep. It was one of the reasons he tried to avoid it, why many of his brothers and sisters avoided it. The Red Lyrium gave them the strength they needed to continue for days without rest. Only stopping to sleep occasionally. When his breath began to slow and he hands steadied, he eased himself off the bench, stretched his aching limbs. He was stiff all over. Sleeping on a hard wooden bench in full plate armor was far from idea, but he powered through regardless. He drank down another vial of the red. It would be enough to get him through the day, because that was how long he had slept for. Night had come and gone, and the sun had begun to rise in a nearly cloudless sky. For the first time in days it seemed like it was going to be a warm morning.   

He was about to push open the doors and continue on with his task when he heard something he had not heard in what seemed like an eternity. The whinny of a horse.

Samson stopped dead in his tracks, his heart setting a thunderous pace in his chest. He had no idea who it was, whether the Elder One had sent somebody to the village, or if it was the Inquisition returning. It was likely that both would spell his death. Since he had lost his great sword, named Certainty after the weapon Knight-Commander Meredith had wielded during the beginning of the Kirkwall rebellion, he had only a small dagger for protection, and he was hardly in any shape to fight anybody. His special armor was broken, useless, little more than dead weight that he could not remove. 

He listened to the hoof beats crunching against the wet snow draw closer to the building, joined soon by voices. Only two distinct voices that he could distinguish. Neither of them he recognized. They were muffled through the thick stone walls, but Samson could make out a few words here and there. They were discussing something about a scroll. Soon, the trodding of the horses came to a stop outside the front door to the Chantry. Samson held his breath as he heard them dismount. There was the metallic clanking of plate armor as one of them approached the door, and the next words he spoke all but stopped Samson's heart completely. 

"Someone is inside. Look at the tracks."

"Yes. They look fresh. No older than a day or two." 

Samson quickly backed away from the door. His thoughts of escape were dashed. He had found the secret entrance the Inquisition had escaped through in his exploration of the building, but in his current state he would never outrun them. He could try to hide, ambush them from a dark space and kill them before they could react. Of course his chances of success were little better there either. These strangers were armed and they knew he was there. Even if he got one of them, the other would surely finish him. Besides, ambushes were for cowards like the Venatori. Always scheming and plotting, rather than facing the enemy head on like a true soldier. He decided he would make his stand here. Whatever fate would befall him was outside of his hands. 

"We know you are in there." the first voice spoke, clearly and loudly "Come out and you will be shown mercy." 

"You can take your mercy and shove it up your fucking arse." Samson spat, and drew his dagger. He backed away from the door to the center of the room, standing at the ready for a fight. "If you want me, come and take me." 

"As you wish." the doors of the Chantry flew open to reveal who his unexpected visitors were. The masked warrior in black plate armor stood before him, sword in hand. Behind him was a hairless Elven mage in plain attire, holding a simply designed, and practical staff. The masked man cocked his head to the side, studying him. "Samson, is it? I must admit I'm surprised you are still alive." he glanced up and down "Though I doubt that will be for much longer in your current state. I'm going to assume you've seen better days." 

"Are you just going to talk or are you going to kill me?" 

"Kill you? Why waste this unexpected opportunity? No, you are far more valuable alive." 

Samson had no intention of being taken alive, just to be tortured by this demon. He was going to force the man to kill him. Mustering what strength he could, he roared with all his might and charged forward, brandishing the small blade like a man possessed. The masked warrior lowered his blade, drew back his head and shouted a single word that was lost on Samson. A wave of invisible force took him, knocked his feet out from under him and sent him somersaulting through the air. His head met the hard stone floor of the Chantry and the world went black. 


	32. One Step Closer

The Previous Day...

* * * 

The leadership of the Inquisition listened intently as Cullen read them the report he had written about the current situation they were in. It had only been three days since they had been forced to flee Haven and already essential supplies were beginning to run low. Even with foraging and hunting parties scouring the woods for anything they could find or catch, food stores were nearly depleted. Evelyn had ordered strict rationing to draw it out as long as they could. Blankets and warm clothing were in short supply. Their healers were currently dealing with as many cases of hypothermia and frostbite as they were with wounded from the battle. The tents they had managed to salvage from Haven were too few in number to comfortably house everybody, and overcrowding in the small camp had become a problem. With no room to keep them separated, tensions quickly began to rise between the former rebel mages and the few Templars that had accompanied Cullen when he had left Kirkwall to lead the Inquisition's forces as their commander. The outnumbered Templars became increasingly defensive and belligerent towards the mages, while years of oppression followed by bloody warfare had done little to warm the mages' disposition towards their former wardens. The poor conditions and dwindling supplies exacerbated the combative feelings and it was all Evelyn could do to prevent outright battle from breaking out between the two opposing groups. 

They needed to get out of the mountains, and quickly before things boiled over into open revolt. Solas had approached her the night after the battle with possible new home for the Inquisition. A long abandoned fortress deeper into the Frostbacks that would give them a place to regroup and recuperate and reevaluate their situation. She had discussed it with her advisors in the morning, but they were split on the issue. There were doubts that they would be able to make it there with their supplies in such dire straights as they were. With many of the wounded in still in critical condition, the journey would likely kill them. Leliana, calculating and pragmatic as ever told her that this was simply the unfortunate reality that they faced, and that she needed to act in the best interests of the remainder of their fledgling band of survivors. Evelyn had noticed a distinct change in the older woman's demeanor since the battle. Marcus' words had hit her hard, and it was apparent that she saw the destruction of Haven as a personal failure on her part. She became more reclusive than before, retreating into her work, day and night. Evelyn hoped that she would be able to move past it. While she didn't personally know the spymaster very well, she cared about everybody in the Inquisition, and after so many had died to defend Haven, she couldn't stand to lose anybody else. However, before the emotional damage of the attack could be repaired, there were more pressing issues to attend to.

"Your Worship." Cullen started "I have been thinking this over a great deal, and I believe it would be in our best interests to send a salvage party to Haven." 

"Do you think there might be something left there to find?" Evelyn asked "Something that might have survived the fires?" 

"I will be honest with you. I don't know." Cullen rubbed the back of his head and met Evelyn's gaze with his own. "But if there is anything left, food, medicine, any other supplies that we desperately need, then t would be worth it. It also might be best to bring everybody back once we have stabilized the wounded. From there we can take a road out of the mountains."

"And what of this fortress that Solas has spoken of?" Josephine inquired. 

"What of it? Are we to put everybody at risk based on the claims of an apostate? It's an uncharted path that takes us deeper into the mountains with winter on our doorstep. Leliana's scouts have confirmed that Haven is secure. We can leave the Frostbacks from there." 

"And go where, exactly?" 

Cullen paused "Ferelden, perhaps?" he turned to Leliana and Josephine. "You know King Alistair better than any of us. Would he be willing to offer us asylum?"

"It is difficult to say." Leliana pondered. "The Redcliffe matter was the first time I corresponded with his Grace in many years. I am unsure as to how willing he and Queen Anora would be to allow a sovereign army to make camp within their borders." 

"Calling this pitiful band of refugees and "army" is being a little generous, don't you think?" Evelyn shook her head "Besides, there's the problem of the rebel mages. The king and queen banished them from Ferelden. I doubt they'd be willing to let them back in so easily and throwing them to the wolves won't help matters in the slightest."

"Then our third option is Orlais..." Cullen started.

"Which is currently embroiled in a civil war for the crown." Josephine reminded him. "Fleeing from one war right into the claws of another does not seem the wisest course of action." 

"So then our only choice is to follow the lead Solas gave you." Cullen said "But in order to do that, we will need more supplies, and soon." 

Evelyn nodded in agreement "Get that salvaging party formed and ready to move immediately. I want them on the move first thing in the morning." 

"As you command, your grace." He started to turn away then stopped abruptly "Is there anything else to discuss before I carry out my orders?" 

Evelyn sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. "I suppose it's time to address the druffalo in the room"

 

* * * 

 

Marcus crept silent as a cat through the woods, his boots barely making a sound as they imprinted on the powdery snow that layered the forest floor. Pickings were slim for today's hunt. With the early snows in the mountains, many animals migrated to warmer climates, where food was plentiful, before the relentless Frostbacks winter set in. But there was always something left behind. Before him were laid out the tracks of a lone animal, a ram, he guessed by the size and shape of the prints it left in the snow. He was unconcerned with the presence of any potential predators. He knew that wolves and bears roamed these woods, but they could be pacified with little difficulty. He ran his fingers through the fletchings of the arrow nocked on the string of the compound bow he had borrowed from the armory. His own Dwemer designed crossbow had been lost to him in Haven during Corypheus' assault. While he preferred crossbows for their simplicity of use, he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the standard bow, still it felt strange in his hands. 

He could feel that he was getting close. It wasn't something that could be easily explained with logical reasoning. More like the instinct of a seasoned hunter. There were pauses in the tracks as the ram stopped and nuzzled through the snow in search of something to eat. It wasn't long before his instincts proved to be correct. The ram stood beneath a tree, nibbling at some tall grass that had not been fully buried by the snow. He took a moment to watch the animal as it ate its final meal. He absorbed the sights, sounds and smells of the forest around him, listened to the birds sing and the cool late-autumn winds blow. His worries and pains vanished and his body relaxed He rarely felt so at peace as when he was on the hunt. 

The forest offered him escape from the stifling noise and claustrophobia of the tightly packed and overcrowded camp. It gave him the tranquility and clarity of thought to begin planning out his next move. As much as he would prefer to, he harbored no illusions about his chances of being able to stay with the Inquisition. Once his wounds had fully healed and they made their way out of the mountains, he would quietly slip away and continue to try to find his way back to Tamriel on his own. The plan didn't sound particularly good in his head, since it wasn't exactly much of a plan at all, but as things stood, he couldn't find any other option. Any good will he might have garnered with the others had been thoroughly burned to ash when he'd thoughtlessly opened his mouth and threatened to murder everybody present.

It was time to end this and return back to camp. He still needed to skin and cook the beast for tonight's meal and his daylight wasn't going to last forever. Silently, careful not to make any sound, he circled around the ram, always keeping cover between himself and the animal. When he was ready, he raised the bow and took aim as he drew the string and arrow back to the corner of his mouth. He inhaled deeply through his nose and slowly released it through his mouth, the fingers holding the arrow in place began to loosen...

"You didn't mean what you said to them." 

Marcus flinched as he released the bowstring. The arrow went high and before he could blink the ram had vanished into the thicket. He let out a growl of frustration and whipped around to face the unwelcome intruder who had robbed him of his meal. To his shock, there was nobody there. His head swiveled back and forth, searching for the source of the voice. 

"Show yourself." he commanded, his right hand reaching towards the quiver for another arrow. 

"You were hurt, and scared and you lashed out because you didn't know what else to do. You needed to feel strong, to feel safe and in control. You didn't want to hurt them. You don't like to hurt people." 

He looked up. Sitting on a tree branch roughly fifteen feet from the ground was a young man, blond hair and pale skin, 17, maybe 18 years old, though his most distinguishing feature was the comically over-sized widebrimmed hat that sat upon his head. He sat with his legs dangling over the side, swaying with the wind. Curiously, the tree branch didn't seem to sag much at all under his weight. It was the strangest thing. Though Marcus couldn't put a name to his face, he seemed vaguely familiar. 

"Who in Oblivion are you?" Marcus asked, slowly moving his hand away from the quiver and back down to his side. 

"I am Cole." he replied.

Marcus sighed "Well Cole, what do you want?" 

"We wan't to help you." 

"We?" 

A familiar face stepped around the trunk of the tree that Cole sat on, though not the one Marcus had been expecting. Solas walked as straight as he always did, with his hands clasped behind him and his staff strapped to his back. His feet barely made a sound as he walked towards Marcus, and upon closer inspection, they barely made any imprint in the snow either. Must have been an elven thing. 

Marcus glanced back and forth between the two before settling on Solas, his brow furrowed in suspicion. "And what is it, precisely, that I need help with?" 

"I believe that I have discovered the first step we need to take to return you to your homeland." Solas replied. 

That piqued his interest. "I wasn't aware that you were looking. What have you found, and how did you find it?"

"As with much of my knowledge, I found what I sought in the Fade." Solas explained "I began searching shortly after you explained your circumstances to me, and only recently have my efforts born fruit. I had to search through some of the earliest memories in the fade, events that transpired many centuries ago. Before the rise of the Tevinter Imperium, when Elvhenan was at its height, there was an experiment conducted a group of powerful mages. They sought to breach through the fabric of this reality and to enter another world." 

"I remember hearing a story about a group of Magisters who attempted something similar." Marcus replied dryly. "Look how well that turned out for everybody." Solas didn't comment. "So I'm assuming that the world they tried to enter was Mundus, am I correct?" 

"So it would seem." the elf replied. "But in order for the connection to be created, there needed to be an object of immense power on the other side to serve as an anchor for the gateway."

"The Elder Scroll." 

"Correct." Solas nodded "With the Elder Scroll serving as the anchor to the gateway, a portal resembling an immense mirror, known to the ancient elves as an Eluvian, was built on this side. A group of volunteers passed through the Eluvian and presumably entered your world. From there, they were to build a twin to the Eluvin constructed in this world that would serve as a permanent link between our world and yours. However, those who passed through were never heard from again, and the project was abandoned, rather than potentially throw away more lives on an uncertain and incredibly costly venture." 

"Hmph." Marcus shook his head "Poor fools had no idea what they were walking in to. When will people learn to stop meddling in affairs that are beyond them? Though I must say that I am astonished. The amount of power it would have taken to alter an Elder Scroll would have been astronomical." 

"Do you know what happened to the expedition?" Solas asked "Was there any record of their-" 

"None." Marcus replied "At least none that survived into the present. If they did make it through to Tamriel, I doubt that they survived."   

Solas nodded, almost sadly. Marcus frowned ever so slightly, but let it go. "But this does give us a place to start. From what you described, it seems that this Eluvian the Elvhenan built is located in a place that some refer to as the Crossroads. A sort of nexus, where all the Eluvians that were built across Thedas connect. If I am correct, the Elder Scroll you have should act as a key needed to activate the one that will return you to Mundus." 

Marcus frowned "You told me that the Scroll served as an anchor for the portal. If the Scroll is here in Thedas, then how will stepping through this Eluvian return me to Tamriel?"

"The Eluvian is already connected to your world. Theoretically, it should return you to the exact location where you read the Scroll." 

"And if your 'theory' turns out to be incorrect?" 

"Then you will likely be deposited into the space between our worlds and be lost forever." 

"Is there a second option?" Marcus grumbled.

"Remain here until your death, if you find that option to be preferable." Solas responded. 

Marcus sighed "So how do I get to the Crossroads to activate this Eluvian?" 

"The only way to reach them, that I am aware of, is through the use of an intact Eluvian." Solas explained "The obstacles are twofold, as intact Eluvians are exceedingly rare, and as I mentioned before, each requires a key in order to be activated. A key for an Eluvian can be almost anything, from a powerful magical artifact, to the most mundane and unassuming object. With Corypheus likely still alive and a threat, dividing my attention between aiding you and the Inquisition will be difficult."

"I understand. Thank you Solas, you have been an immense help."

"You are most welcome. It is the least I can do for you, for saving all of our lives. But, do tell me, what will be your first move?"

"I need to return to Haven to retrieve the scroll. It is likely still in my tent where I left it before the attack." 

"Would you mind if I accompanied you?" Solas asked "We can discuss our options along the way and devise a strategy to accomplish your goal." 

Marcus looked at him for a moment, his eyes narrowed so slightly that it would be almost imperceptible. He doubted that Solas was doing all of this out of the kindness of his heart. The elf was playing his own game and had been since the Breach had torn open the sky. Too much of his story seemed... convenient, but he wasn't about to turn down help when it knocked at his door. "I suppose not." 

"Excellent. We should return to camp to make preparations." Solas said "In the interest of time, we should attempt to leave before nightfall." 

"Agreed." Marcus replied, trying to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. Thanks to Cole, he would have to get food from the cooks in the mess tent, which wasn't an inviting prospect. It wasn't so much a fear that somebody might try to poison him, something that was very much possible, but that he had little desire to face anybody in the camp. Until now, he had avoided everybody purposely, spending his days in the woods hunting to keep himself fed and busy. Any excuse to distance himself from the others. Solas and Cole had been the first people to approach him since that night... at least as far as he knew. 

"Come Cole." Solas called to the boy in the tree. Marcus watched as he pushed himself off the branch and landed deftly on his feet in the snow at the base of the tree. Marcus would have been hesitant to attempt a jump from that height, but Cole seemed to do it effortlessly. There was also the fact that he could not recognize the boy by his face, despite the close quarters of the Inquisition's encampment, as well as how the boy seemed to know that his threat had been little more than empty. Whatever he was, Marcus doubted that he was human, or at least not entirely. 

The boy kept pace with them and looked up at Marcus. Marcus could now see that Cole's eyes were a pale blue, much like his own, but there was a hollowness there, his face was drawn and thin. "You avoid them, because you don't trust yourself. You hurt people before and you're afraid that you will hurt them too. The dragon inside you wants to break free. It wants to burn and destroy and dominate, but you fight to keep it contained. You won't let it make you no longer you." 

Marcus' brow creased as he stared down at the strange young man who walked beside him. "Are you... reading my thoughts?"

"I feel your pain." Cole replied in his monotone voice. "I want to help you, like how you helped everyone else." 

"Stay out of my head." Marcus ordered the boy. The last thing he needed was somebody creeping through his thoughts, unknowingly revealing things to others that were best kept hidden.

Without the distraction of tracking his prey through the forest, he began to feel the chafing and itch of the bandages around his face and chest. Deep breaths were still painful and a throbbing ache had set into his legs. It was better than it had been when he had woken up, but it was far, far from good. Myrna would likely be waiting for him at his tent to check to see how his wounds were progressing, and to change the dressings. He knew she would be furious about him leaving the tent again, but he there was nothing else he could do. Laying in the silent dark on his cot with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company was maddening. Since his tirade against the Inquisition, the stout mage had been the only person to stop by to see him. He was her patient, after all, and she took her duties with the utmost seriousness. However, he couldn't help but wonder if Evelyn, or Leliana had asked her to keep an eye on him for them. 

The thought of Leliana sent a pang of guilt through his chest. What he had said to her after he had woken up was cruel. Corypheus was to blame for the attack on Haven, not her, yet he had laid all of the fault upon her, humiliated and degraded her in front of everybody who had survived the assault. Nobody in the camp deserved to be the focus of his anger, her the least of all. But what more could he expect from himself? The only thing he'd ever been good at was hurting people. 

"She didn't believe that." Cole said unexpectedly. His body went rigid and his eyes were distant, almost as though he was entranced. "Deep green eyes staring up at yours with a smile as bright and beautiful as the coming of spring. The world around is little more than a blur as you take in all that she is. There are wildflowers woven into her raven hair. Your heart pounds in your chest and your mouth goes dry as your lips struggle to form the words that you have been waiting for so long to speak, stumbling over nervousness and fear. _What did I ever do to deserve someone like her?_  She smiles the way that only you can make her smile, and nods, comforting and reassuring.It speaks in a thousand ways that no words could ever hope to express. The doubt fades away like the morning mists."

"Cole." Marcus stopped in his tracks and warned with a low, threatening growl as he turned on the boy. "That's enough. I told you to stay out of my mind. You have no right to violate my privacy like that."

"But I was trying to help." he explained, startled by the sudden shift in mood. "It was a good memory. One that made you happy. I only wanted you to remember to heal the hurt." 

Solas quickly stepped between them. "It is not something that he can help. Cole is a spirit from the Fade. He is uniquely attuned to the emotions of mortals and seems to be particularly sensitive to feelings of pain and sadness. To bring back painful memories is not his intent. He only wishes to help those who need it most." 

"He can help by staying as far away from me as possible." Marcus snapped "Tell him to go back to camp. There are plenty more people back there who need his... 'help' more than I do." 

Solas sighed and nodded to Cole. The spirit almost looked sad as he turned away with his head bent low. To Marcus' surprise he vanished into thin air with nothing more than a puff of black smoke that swiftly evaporated into the mountain air, leaving no trace that Cole had ever been there. Marcus released a slow, tenuous breath and let his body relax, and they continued on their way back to the encampment.

"If you would indulge a few questions." Solas started "I was curious about this Elder Scroll."

Marcus was relieved by the sudden change in topic. Cole had left him more unnerved than he would like to admit. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much. They're something of a mystery in Tamriel."

Solas chuckled "You have spent the past five years with one. You must have learned something about them."

"Longer than that, actually. This isn't the first Scroll to come into my possession. Not that it would change anything. The Moth Priests of the White-Gold Tower in the Imperial City spend their entire lives studying the Elder Scrolls, yet much of their nature remains hidden to them."

Solas nodded "I'm sure you know something. Where did they come from? Who wrote them?"

Marcus laughed "I once asked the same question. The only answer that I got was that the question didn't make any sense." he paused "There are many theories about their origins, but none can be proven to be true. From what I can tell, they seem to be libraries of some sort. They are records of all events of the past, the present, and the future. From what I know of them, no prophecy foretold by an Elder Scroll has failed to come to fruition. I once read a scroll that took me back over four thousand years into the past to witness an event that had been all but lost to history."

"They seem like fascinating artifacts. I would be very interested in reading your Scroll, if you would permit me."

"You can't."

"Ah. I did not mean to over step-"

"No, I mean you quite literally cannot read the Scroll." Marcus explained "You do not know how to. As I mentioned before, Moth Priests spend their entire lives studying the Elder Scrolls, and learning how to read them. It is a skill that takes decades to master. If an untrained individual were to attempt to read one, the consequences would be severe. You could permanently lose your eyesight, or even your sanity. Many Moth Priests do, even with their training and experience. Some theorize that this loss serves as a sort of payment for being granted access to the knowledge within the Scroll." 

"Yet you stated that you were able to read several. Does this have something to do with you being Dragonborn?" 

"Perhaps, though I cannot say for certain. I read one at the location of a time-wound, which may have altered its effects. The others I read after performing a special ritual that had been taught to my by a Moth Priest. Unfortunately, Thedas lacks the necessary components I need to recreate this ritual. It seems like I may have no choice but to risk the effects of the Elder Scroll if I am to find my way home." 

"Is that a risk you are willing to take?" Solas asked.

Marcus paused for a moment, before nodding with conviction. "It is." 


	33. Return to Haven

The meeting had lasted longer than Evelyn had expected. The issue of Marcus was of no small matter. As soon as they established themselves within this fortress Solas had spoken to her of, word would spread like wildfire of what had happened at Haven, and how a single man had faced down an army and a dragon, and had annihilated them in their entirety. Before long it would reach every court in Thedas and there was no telling what action the nobility would choose to take. They would be divided on this issue, as they were on every issue, and that would buy them time to come up with a solid plan. For now, she needed to find Marcus.

She made her way to the outskirts of the camp towards where Marcus' tent had been pitched only to find an angry Myrna shove her way out of the flaps. When the healer's eyes met hers she stormed through her through the snow. "I apologize for speaking out of term, Your Worship." she started in a wholly unapologetic manner "But I asked you to assign somebody to keep an eye on him while I was otherwise occupied. He shouldn't even be out of bed in his condition."

"He's gone?" Evelyn asked, her nerves, already pulled to the limit by everything that had transpired over the last few days beginning to fray even further. "Where did he go? When did he leave?"

"How am I supposed to know? I've been tending my other patients all morning." she shook her head and muttered under her breath "Stubborn fool. That man has the sense the Maker gave a nug. He'll undo all the work I've done to keep him alive."

"Alright, stay calm." Evelyn said "Somebody in camp has to have seen him leave."

"Hmph." Myrna snorted "Already running low on medical supplies and Lyrium potions, and now I have patients wandering off into the damned forest. Wasn't expecting things to turn out like this when the Inquisition came calling in Redcliffe."

"I don't think any of us did." Evelyn replied somberly. "We're sending a foraging party back to Haven to see if there is anything left to salvage. They will search for more supplies for you and the other healers. If you could write up a list on what you are in greatest need of and give it to Commander Cullen, the party can prioritize their search." 

Myrna studied her for a moment with her sharp, unflinching gaze before nodding. "I appreciate it, Your Worship. Anything the party can find back there could help to save lives." she started to turn away, but stopped herself. "You ought to rest. I don't think you've gotten more than a moment of sleep since Haven fell."

"I'll rest when everybody is safely out of these mountains." Evelyn replied "Until then there is far too much to do."

"Can't argue with you on that point. But there is such thing as pushing yourself too far." Myrna said. "We need a leader, and you can't be that leader if you burn yourself out. Try to find a moment here and there to rest your eyes. I promise you that nobody will think less of you for it. Whether or not you have been blessed by Andraste, you are still only human." 

Evelyn nodded, keeping her self-doubt silent. Whatever reservations she may have about being named leader, this overworked, underfed and exhausted mage did not need to hear them. "Thank you for everything that you've done for the Inquisition."

She shrugged "Didn't really have a choice when the mages were conscripted. But after Haven we're all in this together now. People need help and I have the skills to help them."

"If you ever need anything, just come and find me. I'll do whatever I can."

"I appreciate it, Your Worship." Myrna replied "Start with finding Marcus. In the meantime, I'll be sure to get that list to Commander Cullen as soon as I can."  

With that, Myrna started off towards the tent where the wounded were being held, while Evelyn began an inquiry into the whereabouts of Marcus. It didn't take long before one of the guards who had been on morning watch told her that he had seen Marcus head off into the woods with a bow and a quiver of arrows that he had borrowed from the wagon that was serving as a temporary armory. The fact that the guard had let him pass without a word, or that he hadn't gone to inform someone that he had left frustrated her, but what was done was done. Though she'd be sure to let Cullen know that the guard would be joining the scavenging team. Knowing where Marcus was, she returned to his tent to sit and wait. 

It couldn't have been more than half an hour when she heard footsteps in the snow approaching from behind before they came to an abrupt stop. She looked up to see Marcus, bundled in furs carrying a compound bow and a quiver of arrows. He studied her silently for a moment, waiting for her to speak. So she did.

"If you keep his up, Myrna's going to have both of our heads on a platter." Evelyn started with a light tone and a weak smile.

He gave a small shrug. "I got bored with laying in bed. Needed to get some air." he started walking toward his tent as he pulled off the coverings around his face, giving her the first clear look at him since the night he had woken up. She saw something that she feared he had all but lost. Determination, and dare she believe... hope. "Say whatever you're going to say quickly. I need to get ready to leave." 

"You're leaving?" Evelyn was startled, but she wasn't surprised. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Haven." he replied, stepping around her and pulling open the flap of his tent. "Left some things behind that I need."

As he stepped inside Evelyn called in after him "Tell me what you lost. Commander Cullen is putting together an expedition back to Haven that's leaving tomorrow morning. I'm sure they can find it for you." 

"Thank you, but no." Marcus said from inside. She could hear shuffling, the clanking of metal and a grunt that sounded pained. She was almost tempted to go inside, to offer more help, but stopped herself. Marcus was too stubborn to accept aid from them. The only way they would be able to help him was if he came to the realization on his own. She sat in silence for some time, waiting patiently as Marcus got ready to leave camp. It was he who spoke up next. "If you really want to help, go speak with Dennet and see if he can spare a couple horses." 

"I'm not speaking with anybody else until you tell me what you're going back to Haven for." 

She heard him sigh from within the tent and another shift in movement. Heavy metallic boot steps approached and the tent flap was pushed open. There he stood in full plate mail, with his sword belt tied around his waist and his shield slung around his shoulder beneath a small traveling pack. He shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his armor obviously not sitting well on his injured body. For a moment it looked like his leg was about to buckle beneath him and Evelyn nearly rushed forward to catch him before he fell but he managed to stay on his feet. Gingerly, she took a step forward.

"I'm going to be frank with you Marcus. You look like shit. What in the Maker's name is so important for you to return to Haven like this?" 

His gaze swiftly surveyed their surroundings, searching for any potential unwanted listeners before he answered her question. "Solas thinks he has found a way to get me back home. I need my Elder Scroll. It was left behind in all the chaos and it could be the key to getting me back to Tamriel." 

"That's... that's amazing news!" Evelyn forced herself to smile for him "But that doesn't explain why  _you_ need to go all the way back to Haven to retrieve it." 

"Elder Scrolls are dangerous. Nobody here but I knows how to handle one without permanently maiming themselves."

"Your concern is truly touching, considering you recently told everybody here that you could crush them like ants whenever you felt like it." Evelyn crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared him down.

"Yes, I did." Marcus shook his head "I wish I could pretend the person who said all of those things wasn't me, but it was. And no matter how much I may regret it, I will never be able to take those words back, and I doubt that anybody will forget what I said. I've done my part, and right now It would be best for everybody if I was gone."

"Just because you have given up doesn't mean the rest of us have. Marcus, you're sick, you're hurt, and I want to help you. All of your friends want to help." 

"I know you do. Right now, what I need from you is to speak with Dennet, please. Once I have the scroll again, we can figure out where to go from there." 

Evelyn paused and regarded him for a moment carefully. He was having difficulty standing under the weight of his armor, his back was hunched and he constantly shifted, unable to find a comfortable stance. The black alien metal had been marred by dozens of scrapes, scratches and dings, including a large dent in the breastplate where something heavy had struck him with incredible force. She hadn't had a chance to look over it in the dark when they had found him unconscious in the snow, too preoccupied with getting him to a healer as swiftly as possible. Myrna's prescription of bed rest had been utterly ignored, much to Marcus' detriment, it seemed. But still, he was determined to go and she doubted that anybody would be able to dissuade him. 

Evelyn crossed her arms over her chest and stood a little taller, showing Marcus that her condition was nonnegotiable. "I'll speak with Dennet and get you those horses, but you are not going anywhere alone. The last thing we need is for you to injure yourself any worse than you already are."

"Then there's no need to worry. Solas is coming with me. He'll make sure I don't twist my ankle or trip in the snow." 

Evelyn ignored the tone in his voice. "Don't think that we are letting you off for your outburst either. We're going to discuss this when you return from Haven." 

Marcus nodded solemnly. "Of course. I'll be ready to talk whenever you need to."

Marcus departed to search for Solas while Evelyn headed off towards their makeshift stable where the horses and other beasts of burdern were being held and where she was certain she would find the horsemaster. When he asked why she needed two of his horses she told him that Marcus and Solas were going to scout ahead of the foraging party that was set to leave tomorrow morning and ensure that the area was safe for when the others arrived. It was only a half lie, so it came fairly easy. Despite his obvious skepticism over sending an injured man back out into the field, he relented without further question, though with the condition that his horses would be well cared for and returned in the same state of health as they were when they were taken, to which she gave affirmations that they would be. While Dennet's stablehands saw to preparing the coursers for travel, Evelyn headed over to quartermaster Thrynn and spun the same story. Too busy to argue, she had simply spared what she could, about a day's worth of food for two, some feed for the horses, and a single tent that could fit two, though not particularly comfortably, and a couple blankets. Evelyn knew full well how dire their supply situation was, and didn't try to ask for more. With the supplies in hand, she went to find Marcus again and see that he had everything he needed for his voyage. She found him looking sheepish as an irate Myrna berated him for his negligence of his own health. Solas stood leaning on his staff a short ways off looking mildly amused with the scene playing out before him. 

"... no concern for your well being whatsoever!" Evelyn heard Myrna going off on a tirade against a thoroughly cowed Marcus who did nothing but stand and take it silently. "Was all that time and effort I spent saving your bloody life a waste? Should I have not even bothered? Unlike you, there are plenty of people in this camp who would appreciate getting to live a little longer. Perhaps I should have looked to their needs instead and left you to bleed to death!" 

"I _do_ appreciate everything you've done to save my life, truly, but-" Marcus started before Myrna swiftly cut him off.

"Obviously not, since you seem so damned eager to throw your life away with this foolish venture." 

Evelyn decided it was time for her to intervene. "It's alright Myrna, he and I have already discussed it and I gave him my permission to go." 

"Without consulting me first?" Myrna turned her wrath on the Herald. "He's still weeks away from being fully healed. All he is going to do is undo all the work I've done to keep him alive, and make his injuries even worse. Should we let the rest of the wounded start wandering about as they please?" 

"I know, and I never would have agreed to it if it wasn't important. I wish I could send somebody else, but its complicated, and unfortunately I can't explain all the details to you. But you are going to have to trust me and trust Marcus on this."

"Why? After everything that has happened, when you conscripted the mages into the Inquisition, when you allowed Corypheus to catch us by surprise and destroy Haven, and now you're keeping secrets from us, why should I trust you?"

"I wish I could explain why better, but its complicated." Marcus interjected "There's something I left behind and only I can safely retrieve it. I need to go before we break camp and move further into the mountains, so it has to be today." 

Myrna threw her hands up in exasperation. "Fine, do as you please. But if anything happens to you out there, find another healer because I'm not putting you back together again." 

"That's fair." Marcus replied. Finished with him, Myrna fixed Evelyn with her stony gaze one last time before she stormed off.

The sound of hooves marching through the snow covered ground caught Evelyn's attention and she turned to see one of Dennet's stable hands leading two horses towards them, saddled, bridled, and groomed. The young man approached Evelyn and handed her the reins. She thanked him and he returned a small bow then turned and headed back the way he had come. Evelyn led the steeds over to where Marcus and Solas stood waiting. They quickly loaded up the horses with the supplies lent to them by Thrynn.

"Take good care of them. I promised Dennet that they would be returned to him in the same health that they are in now." she patted the nearest on on the neck. "Commander Cullen and the salvage team should arrive tomorrow afternoon, so you could return to camp with them. Good luck." Solas hoisted himself up into the saddle with grace and practice ease, while Evelyn watched as Marcus lifted his leg up to the stirrup and started to push himself up and over the saddle. She watched him grimace and his leg nearly buckled beneath him, but he held and managed to mount the horse. "I hope you find what you're looking for." 

"I will." Marcus declared "You can assure Dennet that his horses will be well looked after." He pulled the reins and turned the horse in the direction of Haven and started off at a walk with Solas bringing his own steed into step behind him. A few people had gathered to watch and were chatting amongst themselves pondering why they were leaving before breaking off and continuing with whatever it was that they had been doing. 

"You let him leave." A familiar voice spoke from behind her. Evelyn turned to see Leliana standing, hood up and arms crossed behind her back. "I understand that he is returning to Haven. I remember that we agreed to keep him close for the time being so that we could keep an eye on him. No? He is far from well, both physically and mentally, you know this."

"Yes..." Evelyn replied, she gestured for Leliana to follow so that they could speak somewhere more private and ended up back in the tent that was serving as the Inquisition's headquarters. "Solas believes that he had found a way for Marcus to return to Tamriel, but in order for it to work he needs the Elder Scroll that he left in Haven. I offered to have Cullen's salvage party find it for him, but he insisted that it had to be him, told me that the Scroll is dangerous to anybody who doesn't know how to handle it."  

Leliana nodded. "Did he share any details beyond this of what Solas knows?"

"No." Evelyn replied "Only that he needed the Scroll."

"And once the Scroll has been retrieved, he will return?"

"I believe so. Most of his belongings are still in his tent. I don't think he would leave them all behind." 

"I would have preferred if you had consulted myself or Josephine and Cullen before making this decision." Leliana said.

"You told me yourself that I needed to begin taking charge and act as a leader. I can't do so if I need to ask somebody else's permission before I make any decision. Marcus has been here for five years without any means or hope of being able to return home. He needs to do this and we owe it to him to let him. I'm worried about him too, and I would be lying if I said he didn't scare me at times, but denying him this chance isn't going to help him or anybody else." 

"Of course, Your Worship." Leliana agreed. "I believe I understand." 


End file.
